Coping Mechanisms for Idiots
by Zeraphie
Summary: After the Invasion, all Wally wants to do is get his life back on track. Artemis, however, wants to go back to fighting crime. No matter how much he begs and pleads for her to stay, she needs to do what makes her happy. And then there's Dick. As the guy who convinced her to be a hero again, he's gotta make sure Wally's happy, too. Dick Grayson x Wally West. KF x Nightwing.
1. Breakup, Queso Fights, IHOP, Friends

**Chapter I: **Break Up, Queso Fights, IHOP, Friends

The last of Artemis's things had been packed up in several boxes that horded the living room, all precisely stacked and labeled in red Sharpie. Brucely, the dumb dog he was, nosed them into an amicable fort while his owners made sure everything was separated. They hadn't divided things in a literal sense (half the couch, half the pillows sitting on the bed—far be it, half the dog), but agreed that any minor thing that Artemis had forgotten, she would come by for later.

The apartment she would be renting with Zatanna didn't allow pets, which meant their dog would be staying where it was until Wally could find a new place. His scholarship money wasn't going to cover everything. If worse came to worse, he would go back to living in a dorm room or make the zeta trips back and forth from Central City. (The latter thought simply made him grimace—zeta-beaming could be a nightmare.)

At the moment, all Wally could do was watch as Megan stacked the last stack of boxes and Artemis make sure everything was there. She'd taken down frames and photos that Wally did not mind leaving the house and tucked them in photo albums for safe keeping.

He kept a safe distance from the bedroom door, dressed only in pajama pants and a crumpled night shirt that didn't seem to matter, and watched her spare glances at other photos. _One from when we got Brucely as a puppy. When we first got the house. Central City High Prom picture. _Artemis stopped, scrutinizing the picture gingerly on the kitchen counter. She picked it up, lacing fingers around the edges, and made eye contact with him.

Wally took it as his cue to push off the doorframe and met his girlfr—_ex_-girlfriend at the other end of the room as her lips contorted into a solemn frown. "You could always stay," he murmured quietly once he met her.

They were happy in the picture. Artemis had punched him in the nose after he placed the corsage on her wrist. She'd curled her hair for the occasion, and the first thought that came to mind, for some godforsaken reason, was the fact she looked like Miss Piggy. Thusly, Wally went to his Senior Prom with a bloody nose and a guilty conscience, and an amused Artemis as his gorgeous prom date. The quirk of her lip let him know she was thinking the same exact thing.

"You know I can't do that," she said finally, then set the picture frame in his hand. The blonde took a sharp breath and looked her ex somberly in the eye. "You want to live this life. I…don't. Don't think I ever did."

Wally bit his lip and looked down to the picture frame fondly. Tan fingers wrapped around his own, curling his hands until they were tight.

"Keep it." Then, a kiss on the cheek. "Just because we're broken up now doesn't mean it wasn't good while it lasted."

"Yeah." Wally let out the breath he was holding, feeling the air escape from his lips.

"_Ekat eht sexob ot ym tnemtrapa."_ The boxes strewn around the room glowed, illuminating in a soft blue light before disappearing and leaving both the house and Wally empty. Zatanna smiled hesitantly and looked to the ex couple. "Everything should be over there. We can unpack later."

Artemis nodded, muttering a quiet thank you under her breath. She stepped backward from the redhead, and out of instinct, Wally grabbed her by the arm. Brown eyes looked to green, suddenly flickering with a disapproving glint, and forced him to let go.

_I still love you_, Wally didn't say. Instead, he looked to Artemis warily, and the sadness was returned.

"Bye," she said. He waited an extra beat, in hope there was more to the sentiment, and got nothing back.

M'gann and Zatanna were both locked in conversation, awkwardly trying to keep from hearing in on the converstion. From the distance he stood, Wally could see them eyeballing the situation in concern. When Artemis finally met them in the middle, they let go of heavy breaths.

"Bye, Wally," M'gann said softly. He shrugged back jerkily, unsure of what to say.

"See you later. Okay?" Zatanna spared him a look and was met with silence. What else was there to put in the air when the situation was clearly, _hey-stealing-your-girlfriend-since-she-wants-to-be-in-a-mask-again-permanently, see-you-at-the-next-bloc-party_? She took in a deep breath, chest rising, and waved a hand. "_Ekat su kcab ot ym tnemtrapa." _

The next flash of light forced Wally to shut his eyes and look away. Beneath closed eyelids, he could still see the bright specks and hear the hum of absolute power until suddenly—_nothing. _Zilch. Brucely stood to his paws and barked loudly at the empty space.

And when Wally looked up, he was alone. Save for one dog.

"Bye."

**xxx**

At first, Wally thought it would be a good idea to take note of all the annoying things he wouldn't have to deal with now that Artemis no longer lived with him. She used to trim her toe nails while they were watching Doctor Who and get them all over the floor. There was this one time she decided they would be having _pho_ for dinner and then Brucely tipped the pot over. It would always be _her_ blond hair that clogged the shower.

(Then he realized—no, as disgusting as it was to find blond hairs everywhere, it was also very nice to comb his fingers through it like warm pudding. Then, that it was the stupid dog's fault their dinner had been disrupted. Then—well, no. The toe nails thing was still disgusting, but DVR saved him when Arty had to study or sleep.)

As he searched his mind for reasons why being in a relationship with Artemis made wasn't worth it, the guilt gnawed at his chest and made him feel worse. Artemis and he had been in a relationship for five _years—_she wasn't just some girl he met a day or a week or a month ago. They were practically married. Practically.

The engagement ring and box were still tucked beneath his mattress, waiting for Christmas Day when Paula Crock and Artemis would attend one of the Flash Family Christmases to be held at the West Residence this year, where Artemis would find it at the bottom of a large red and green bag.

Or—well. Was going to.

After that, he pulled out a text book, set it on the coffee table, and flipped to a random page before turning on the TV and letting _News At 3 _play as background noise. If he went back to the task on hand, then Wally could pretend it was just an ordinary day. He just…didn't want it to be over. Didn't want to wait for the clock to turn nine and not hear the door open as his not-girlfriend didn't go through.

He had the day off from his internship, so there was no point in arriving and asking if he could kill time.

Wally wasn't even in the mood to eat. Which—_wow. _That was a new low, even for him.

Five years. They'd dated on and off, starting exactly on January 1st, all those years ago—a month when both admitted they wanted to be exclusive. Artemis and he had shared a lot of firsts together, including the _big awkward_ first, then settled down. Wally had needed to leave the team for quite some time right before college. It had taken a lot of arguing, and much begging on his part to get Artemis to follow his lead, and for three following years, they had been taken off the roster.

Then Dick—_Nightwing_ called. Really—Maybe, Wally shouldn't have blamed him as the source of all his problems. After all, Nightwing barely got all the words out before Artemis wholeheartedly agreed for the deep undercover mission. When the phone cut off, she'd looked to him as though she'd done something unforgivable. Trapped. In a small apartment in Palo Alto, with a dog that wasn't completely housebroken and having nothing to look forward to than going to school.

After seeing that look, he didn't have the heart to tell her no. He was frustrated at his _best friend_ for ever suggesting putting the love of his life in danger, but maybe even angrier that he reignited the blonde's interest to return—bow, arrow, and all.

The last thing Wally ever wanted to do was have Artemis feel like a caged bird in their home. The other last thing he ever wanted was for her to return without him. So, even after childish fights and begging that she didn't return—not after the whole Tigress thing—Artemis was right. She wanted right, he wanted left.

It was better to stop hurting each other now, than let it ache for the rest of eternity.

So despite trying to come up with all the negative things he associated with Artemis, pretending their breakup didn't happen, and nagging himself on the inside that if he'd just shown the ring to her _sooner_—he knew they were better off without each other.

Too bad life was still a bitch and decided to make it hurt.

Wally sat at the couch, with Brucely curled against his leg and slobbering on his knee. He pretended to listen to the news about a goldfish saving a cat from the tree, and thought of ways he could move on with his life. Come April, he would graduate college and start a job with STAR Labs. There were girls (and some guys) in his class interested in dating him. Starting tomorrow, he could force himself to take the plunge and ask one of them out. If they were still single. Hell—plenty of the girls (and again, some guys) were already married and pregnant in class.

The once-Fastest Teen Alive was just too slow to make his move.

_Don't think that way, West._ He stopped himself, bowing his head back to the couch behind him before changing the channel. ABC Family flickered on, playing a scene from _Pretty Woman. _Stepping toward marriage would have just made both of them feel worse. And he already did, trying to forget about her.

Thankfully, the door rang before he thought again. (Yeah. Thinking. What a pain.)

Dick stood at the other end, a hardy smile across his lips and arms tucked firmly behind his back like a gentleman greeting a girl.

_Well now, don't sell yourself short, West._ He was at least a lady. Green eyes narrowed to the teen standing outside the door, hand firm on the knob and teeth biting the inside of his mouth. Somehow, seeing the guy that provoked his girlfriend to break up with him didn't make him any better.

He saw the teen's gaze dim slightly, lips wilting along with it. Dick's hand ran through ebony hair and his stature stiffened. "You…gonna say something?"

Wally shrugged. He opened the door wider, mostly by obligation, and made room for the hero to enter. Dick's eyes followed the movement, the reluctance still showed on his face. Sigh. "Relax. I don't have the energy to yell at you right now."

The words must have sounded wrong aloud. Somehow it only made his best friend look like a kicked puppy—which, at the moment, only left a nasty taste in Wally's mouth. Dick slowly came in, which was when Wally noticed the duffel bag hung over the teen's shoulder.

Um. "You…staying over or something?"

"No," was the short reply from Dick. He set the bag next to the couch and bent over to pat Brucely over the head.

"You should have called before you came." Wally shut the door behind him, sporting a stern look to the teen's shoulder blades.

"But if I did that," Dick replied slowly, and he looked over his shoulder, a glint in his eye, "you would have said 'no.'"

"You used to just come over anyway."

"I stopped when both Artemis and you rightfully accused me of cockblocking. Or—well. Dickblocking." A soft, crooning laughter tingled at the back of Dick's throat, goading Wally from frustration to tiny laughter. It was warm, spreading in the redhead's chest like a nice breath.

This was the first civil conversation they'd had with each other in ages. Nothing in regard to missions, about putting Arty and he back on the roster, or even the elephant in the room where Dick forced himself not to talk about it and Wally pretended it wasn't an issue.

_Ah, jeez. _Wally heaved a sigh, letting out an infuriating breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and slowly worked his way over to his old friend. The nervousness was evident in the teen's face, but he'd elected to ignore it when they greeted each other. Someone who called _Dick Grayson_ stupid either didn't know him well enough, or knew him too well.

"Sorry," the redhead said finally. His demeanor broke, and he fell to his seat on the sofa. Looking up to Dick evenly, he was met with a curious eyebrow. "You're welcomed here. I don't blame you. Not…entirely, anyway." He patted the couch cushion next to him lamely.

"Wanna talk about it?" Dick sat down.

"My girlfriend of five years realized she never wanted to leave the hero life behind and left because I did." Green eyes looked to the ceiling forlornly, head tilting back. "I begged her to stay and knew I was losing the argument as I went along. I…never should have asked her to stay. Not if she wanted to. It's…" Wally took a breath. "It's different from just trying to get her back. I get her back, then she has to give up the heroing."

"You…could always—"

"Dude." Wally shook his head, the guilt on his face morphing into a frown. "Don't go there. Seriously."

Dick wasn't a little kid anymore. That particular thought crossed Wally's mind when suddenly the teen next to him crossed his arms, and along with it came flexed muscles. Legs extended to the fullest length, crossing at the ankles and disappearing under the coffee table. Then, Dick looked at him warily. Of course he did. This was the guy that rarely ever let Wally get away with anything whenever they were kids. "There are plenty of heroes who keep a relationship with a civilian, Wally."

"_Hah. _Please. I don't _want_ her back in the hero world. Especially not after all the shit you put us through." Wally's jaw tightened and he tossed a glare in the teen's direction. Yet when he did so, he saw he was met with the same demeanor.

"I didn't come here to pick a fight with you."

"You mention the uniform, that means you should expect a fight."

"_Wally._"

Right. The redhead snapped to attention, realizing that both his stature and face and twisted unfavorably in the light of his supposed best friend. He shut his eyes, pressed a hand to his face and let out a breath. So much for _not being mad._

"Sorry." And then he slid off the couch, landed on the floor with a huge _bang_ and causing the table to scrape away against the floor.

Silence. At this point, Wally wasn't quite sure which one he would have favored more. So,

"Sorry," he said again and he raised his head to Dick's stoic look. _Man. When was the last time they smiled at each other_?

He made room when Dick also slid to the ground, thighs touching in the small crevasse between the table and the couch. Dick leaned over, carefully placing a palm against the redhead's knee, and forced Wally to look back at him.

"I know you're mad at me," the teen muttered. "And I know that you're going to _be_ mad at me. For a long time, until you can get over Artemis. But. I'm still your best friend and I'm going to keep tabs on you. Even if you're not in the suit anymore."

The redhead looked to him carefully, unconvinced. Another apology was at the tip of his tongue, really.

Dick dragged his forgotten duffel bag next to his lap and pulled out four family packs of Tostitos tortilla chips, eight jars of queso, and three video games that Wally recognized very clearly. Dick offered him a wry look, a smirk curled at his lips, and tossed a bag onto the redhead's lap. "I brought bribery."

Wally blinked. "Seriously?"

"Bros are supposed to help bros after a bad breakup." There was a break in the usual sternness in Dick's face, a wary smile accumulating across his lips. "We're still bros. Right?"

Yeah. He'd mentioned earlier that his separation from Artemis was not entirely Dick's fault. Plus, they'd gone far too long without seeing each other. Dick's decisions managed to drive Wally up a wall on occasion but—truth be told, having someone around made him feel less alone. Especially for tonight.

"Yeah." Wally tore open the bag of chips and smiled. He could just barely hear a sigh of relief from Dick's end. "We're bros."

They played games for six straight hours—or at least, Wally had watched Dick twitch and fidget like a little kid as he went through Skyrim. As the evening progressed, everything prior to Dick visiting seemed to disappear. They fell into an old pattern the redhead couldn't remember quite well—("Dude—shoot it, shoot it!" "No _shit_, you idiot, I'm shooting it!")—to the point Wally wrestled for the controller. (Of course—Dick and is freaky bat training got the better end of him, and the said redhead was pinned to the ground, looking up to a smug face.)

Following that was a tortilla chip and queso fight, which left the wooden floors splattered in Monteray Jack Queso and a bag of chips were shoved down the front of Dick's shirt.

They decided to leave the mess for Brucely to clean up (to which the dumb dog looked very happy about, given the squeaky sounds he made) and go to the IHOP not too far from Wally's apartment. Well—after changing, at least. As it turned out, a spare change of clothes was probably the only thing Dick hadn't packed in his neat duffel bag. Once Wally asked if he needed clothes, the teen's response was, "Unless you want Nightwing walking around the streets of Palo Alto for no real reason."

Wally lent him a spare change—which, as it turned out, was a perfect fit on his best friend. Sometimes it was hard to place the big-eared kid and the tall, somewhat-adult in the same category. He tried not to look at Dick's face when he took the teen downstairs to the garage, where his decent-looking Honda was nested amongst things. The stray cat that Artemis had taken under her wing _meow_ed and slunk away into the night.

"Get in," he instructed, just _knowing_ Dick was surprised.

"Sorry," the teen said, as if reading his thoughts. "I uh. I just always thought this was _Artemis's_ car."

Wally shrugged. "I asked for it as a graduation present."

"Do you run at all? In the morning? Jogs?"

"Depends." Not really.

He flashed the teen a look, hoping it didn't come off too angry or annoyed. Just—_please_, he wanted Dick to drop the subject. Fortunately realizing Wally's lack of enthusiasm, Dick obediently stopped. The drive to IHOP was quiet until Wally felt uncomfortable enough to turn the radio onto whatever Artemis had left it the last time they went out together.

Going to the restaurant, the hostess, Sam, greeted Wally with a pleasant smile, and then Dick with an even sweeter one before escorting them to their seats.

"I take it you come here often?" His best friend mused.

"Open all night with pancakes. What do you think?" Wally snorted, eyes narrowing pleasantly. "So, uh. How's the team doing?"

"Pretty well. It'll be Artemis's first mission soon. Being back on the team and stuff, I mean." Dick's face contorted hesitantly. He leaned over the table, tensely clasping his hands on arms and face twisting uncomfortably. "And, uh. Bart's good, too."

"Good. Robin…doing well?" Wally's hand wrapped around his drink. He pressed cup to his lips, watching the teen's expression morph tentatively until a smile spread across his lips.

"Yeah. He's good."

Good. "I'm glad. You were pretty nervous about him, right?"

"Just that I'd end up doing something stupid," Dick agreed. He bit the inside of his mouth, stirring the straw in his Coke speculatively. It was hard to miss the proud gleam as it glowed in the guy's eyes. "It was a learning experience for me. For all of us. Tim's good now, though."

"Good," Wally echoed in agreement. He withdrew the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, hand still tight over his drink. A smile of his own pressed against his lips, mimicking Dick's sentiment. "You know, despite all the crap I've given you this past year, you…_are_ a good big brother."

Dick blinked, staring at the redhead as though he'd grown a third eyeball.

"Hard to believe." Said redhead shrugged. "Given what a little _shit_ you were when we were kids."

"I was cute, wasn't I?"

"Heh…heh. Only partially."

They both laughed, soft and crinkly beneath their breaths. When Wally looked up again, Dick looked less like a fish out of water and more like the best friend Wally'd had since he was thirteen. The smile was boyish across his lips, gaze firm an warmer than it had been.

Or, well. _Just as warm._ Wally had just been more preoccupied perusing the situation cautiously than it needed to be.

"Thanks," said the teen in front of him.

"Yeah—well." Wally ran his free hand through his hair. "You're paying for this meal then. For all the times you one-upped me."

"_Hahaha._ I'm okay with that."

Fortunately that seemed to be enough of an ice breaker that they were able to carry on with the conversation (_again._) Wally hoped that eventually they would permanently slink back into their old personalities, where he could rag on his best friend of eight years and Dick could do the same, packing twice the punch. They discussed the team—Mal and Karen would be getting married next February. Conner and M'gann were starting up their relationship again. Dick's biggest concern was re-integrating both Kaldur and Artemis back on the team after so many months of deception.

"They'll manage," Wally assured him. The breakup between Artemis and he was messy, but that didn't mean he didn't have the utmost respect for her. Kaldur, too.

After that, the subject was dropped. A wrinkle had appeared between Dick's brow, frustrated and clearly troubled. Younger members of the team were at the age where rebellion was a given, if what happened with Arsenal (information Wally only getting right now) was any consolation. For the most part, they were apparently obedient. Now that the six leaguers were back, the covert team was working at the Watchtower until their own permanent base could be established. They were, Dick explained, trying to keep it separated, and let the team operate on the original members' shoulders.

Well—other than Wally himself. He decided not to mention that part.

Aside from that, they discussed social lives. Wally and Artemis both would be graduating from Stanford in the springtime. He'd taken an internship with STAR Labs at the start of the semester, and if all went well, he would also be working for them once he graduated in the Keystone City division. When he finished his update, he pretended not to notice the look Dick gave him and urged the teen to carry on.

The guy had taken a year off college to focus on the team. He'd been in that mindset for years now, since Kaldur had stepped down permanently as leader, but his dedication often at times surprised Wally. That wasn't his idea of what "social life" meant.

He wasn't stupid—since coming into the IHOP, girls had been eying their table—mostly Dick than Wally himself. (Anyone who knew him or Artemis basically thought they were connected by the hip.) Dick was handsome. He'd always been _cute_—Wally had called it a long time ago back when they first met. But now, most of the boyishness had disappeared from the acrobat's face in favor of a more structured jaw line. _Dick finally grew into his ears_, Wally couldn't help but muse as he watched the guy eat his scrambled eggs.

Dick was fit and more athletic than most guys his age, with a build most people would die for. His fingers were long—callused, from years of handling batarangs. He let his hair grow out (though, Wally inputted that to Dick focusing more on his work than cleaning himself up) so that it rested on his neck. It wouldn't be too long before he could draw it back into some charming ponytail. All of that stacked together, along with that stupid effervescent flicker in cerulean blue eyes made him a knockout.

Wally made the occasional comment of how much of a _dog_ his best friend was. Which—seriously, was definitely not a lie. Yet here, right now, Dick seemed more content enthralled in conversation with Wally himself than returning looks the girls in the next booth over were giving him.

"You okay?"

"What? Uh—yeah." Wally was met with an ebony eyebrow peaked high in the air. Out of reflex, he sat back in his seat, free hand curling at his neck. "Why?"

"You…haven't let go of your drink since the waitress gave it to you," Dick pointed out. He moved to pour maple syrup on his pancakes, then looked up with amusement. "And you've been staring at me funny ever since she slipped me her number on the napkins I didn't ask for."

Right. "What do you expect? You've got the attention of every girl in the room and you decide to pay attention to little ol' me." Wally placed his free hand on his chest, a smile curling at one side of his face, and wiggled his eyebrows. "I'm flattered. I may even let you get in bed with me tonight."

"Right," Dick replied wryly. "I told you. I'm not looking for anyone." He pushed the napkins to the side as if to prove his point—then shoved it in his pocket as though to be nice. "Last girl I dated was Babs. That didn't last long."

"How come?" Actually, it had to be brief enough if this was the first time Wally heard about it.

Shrug. "There was a lot of chasing. And. It was nice. We wanted different things." He looked up to the redhead thoughtfully, head tilted slightly as he went into his own ministrations. Then, "Trust me. It was better that way."

Suddenly there was a way that Dick looked at him that unnerved Wally. He blinked back, taking in the information, the nodded slowly. Raising his glass, Wally forced Dick to do the same. "To single life. _Life's a bitch._"

A grin cracked upon Dick's lips. The teen laughed softly beneath his breath (a sound that Wally didn't realize he missed so much) and mimicked the gesture. "To single life."

After that, they pigged out on more pancakes. If it weren't for the fact Dick was so used to Wally's eating habits (and had a billionaire playboy father as his personal bank), the redhead probably would have eaten less. Dick discussed a movie he'd seen with the new Robin and raved on how charming _Timmy_ was, happily geeking out at both inappropriate and appropriate times. Apparently every one of their stakeouts was accompanied by donuts, Arbys' or some other of fast food. Wally raved that because of Bart, he had to increase his grocery shopping by the tenfold.

Then eventually, Dick had to leave. He _tsk_ed, checking his phone idly about an hour later. "Bats wants me back in Gotham to help him out on a case. He won't be happy if I'm late."

"You want me to drive you?" Okay. That sounded even lamer aloud than it did in his head. And that was saying something.

Dick shook his head. "The zeta tube's only about a block away. Might as well work off all that food before I get there."

"Hey—not my fault you were trying to get into an eating contest with _me_ of all people." Smirking, Wally raised his head victoriously. "Um—" He reached out the moment Dick stood up from the table, snickering, and placed a hand on the teen's forearm. All of that happened before Wally could even realize what he was doing.

Blue eyes stared back—less bewildered than earlier, more confused.

_Shit._ Wally hadn't even known what he planned to say. He swallowed hard, fingers padding the guy's arm carefully. His tone dropped, and suddenly looking Dick in the eye was hard. "Thank you. For coming, I mean. This was nice."

Blink. Dick's mouth opened slightly, the surprise clearly there. Then, he nodded, a warm smile falling at his lips. "Yeah." He moved to leave—and Wally's grip only tightened. "Yeah, dude?"

"Come back later. If you're up for it." Wally swallowed again, eyebrow quirked and the corner of his lip raising. "I'll leave my window unlocked just in case I fall asleep."

"_Hahaha. _Really."

_I don't want to be alone, _he didn't say. "Yeah. Really."

Dick took one look at him and seemed to guess the problem immediately. Wally's heart fluttered as his best friend smiled back, eyebrows pinched together and eyes seeming to gain a glitter or two. "I'll see what I can do."

"Cool." Yeah. _Cool. _

Once Dick left, Wally was by himself again. Dick slipped out of his grip with surprising ease, given it was the redhead's bad hand. He stared at it carefully—the hand that had been wrapped around his drink dutifully throughout the night. Unless Dick had pointed it out, Wally doubted he would have noticed. Getting it to unfurl from a fist was a task that could have taken hours.

. He could hardly feel it. Not in months.

Sighing, Wally used his good hand to uncoil the fist, then rummaged for his keys. He drove home in painful silence, obeyed every stoplight, and parked in his garage without any trouble. All completely, absolutely normal.

**xxx**

"_I'm telling you, dude. It'll work this time!" _

"_I'm surprised you have enough blood left running through you to even talk." _

"_Hahaha. Very funny. Just. Stand there, and prepare to be amazed. I make it through that wall and you owe me a year's supply of hotdogs." Kid Flash broke into a grin, crouched at the ground with his fingers pressed across the gravel. Twelve yards away, tiny Robin stood tall, his arms crossed and this little smirk on his face that read—'You are such an idiot.' _

_Oh, cool. He finally got the dude to smile. Robin had to be the toughest cookie Wally's had to deal with. _

_Beneath his cowl and the goggles, Kid Flash wiggled his eyebrows enthusiastically, hoping that would translate into, 'Wish Me Luck.' He pulled out the tissues that had been crammed into his bloody nose only an hour ago, inhaled the scent of caked red crumbs and grimy oxygen into his nostrils, and curled his hands into the gravel. _

_Energy knotted in his stomach. Kid Flash sucked in air until his lungs tightened, and felt the bristle of static as it grazed the lycra and padding above his suit. He viewed Robin through red lenses—that tiny stature, even tinier smirk, and bit the inside of his mouth. Okay, okay, okay. _

_Kid Flash broke into a sprint, accelerating as he did so. His pulse tightened, the wind billowing at the wing-tips of his ears, and feet hit the ground for traction. He was going to do it. He was going to do it. Hewasgoingtodoithewasgoingto doi—_

_**BAAAAAM **_

…_when Wally woke up, his back was to the floor with—owowow—a rock digging into his back. He reached beneath him and grabbed a giant chunk of asphalt that was definitely too big to be a bother in his shoe and threw it aside. Flash's face stared down at him, lips stretched crookedly and eyebrows pinched beneath the cowl. He looked like a giant, fussy speedster…golden retriever with a Flash mask. _

"_Hi Uncle Flash," he said, voice wobbly. His face twitched then—ow. "Ow, ow, __**ow.**__" Wally reached to touch his nose—and was promptly stopped by his mentor. _

"_Don't touch it. I think you broke your nose." _

"_What makes you say that?" OwowowowowowowOWOWowOw. _

"_Because the last time I checked, it didn't have a bigger arch than the one in St. Louis." Flash sighed in exasperation, and suddenly the boy was ready to bury himself in a hole. Or find a bigger rock to hit himself over the head with. _

"_Sorry," Wally mumbled, then cringed. Kid Flash only for a few months and he was already screwing up. _

_Flash scratched his head thoughtfully, the frown still obvious across his lips. It softened just slightly; enough to let Wally know he wasn't in deep trouble. "We'll have to tell your aunt about this, Kid." _

"_I figured." Wally reached out for his uncle's extended hand to get up—_

_Only to be forced back onto the ground. "Dude!" _

"_Oof!" _

_Robin grinned at him from above, having the speedster pinned easily to the ground. The Boy Wonder mounted his friend, eyes wide beneath his mask and arms crossed dutifully. "That was sick. You made a mini-tornado out of the alleyway and slammed into the wall!" _

_Wait. "Seriously? You thought that was cool?" Man, it was a good thing Robin was so tiny—otherwise the dude would be crushing Wally's diaphragm right about now. He stared at the boy in surprise, and was met with a playful grin. _

"_You're an idiot," Robin announced. "But at least your nose didn't bleed. A lot, anyway." _

_Oh. Cool. "Cool!" Wally broke into a grin, sitting straight up with glee. Then—"Ow—ow, ow, owowowowOW—" He clutched his nose—which, yeah, okay. Hurt. _

_Definitely worth it though. Ow. _

**xxx**

October nights in Palo Alto were brisk. Leaves had lost their youth, fading into crisp orange remnants that found comfort in corners and beneath skeletal trees. They swept across the ground, allowing wind to pluck and whisk them away they pleased, until landing on a new home, and waited to be cast away yet again. It was three in the morning when Nightwing returned to the town, zeta-beaming from a cavern hidden by a strategically placed cardboard box. Streets were barren aside from happy college students who found new ways to entertain themselves in the night.

Taking a breath, Dick rolled the painful ache out of his shoulder from when Clayface had slammed him into the wall. _Nothing that couldn't be fixed in the morning. _Alfred had doted, Babs scolded, and Tim had given him a pleasant grin that was met with quiet snickers behind the Dark Knight's back. Yeah. Definitely something that could be fixed in the morning.

He felt a symphony of cracks as he twisted himself and made the short walk back to Artemis and Wa—_Wally's _house. He'd figured, anyone who stopped him in the dead of the night would either be too drunk to recognize him or sober enough to acknowledge who he was. _Thirsty Thursdays_, was what Artemis called it one night when it was just she and him. Back when Wally had stormed off in frustration.

Biting the inside of his mouth, the teen decided—_no, probably not a good idea to mention Artemis for a while. _Not until Wally could accept the fact his girlfriend was on the superhero roster again. He sucked in another breath, suddenly feeling the air passage in his lungs constrict, and climbed up the stairs to Wally's apartment door.

Then, propped himself onto the rooftop, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. His feet touched the roof tiles, careful and without the smallest creek (a technique he'd learned after years of practice.) Crawling his way to the front, the window was unlocked just as Wally promised.

There were two ways he perceived what was going to happen next: Wally would be asleep, after dying of boredom without the _(forced_) lack of human contact, or he would be awake in the living room, feigning studying, and calling Brucely a pig for eating everything in his doggy bowl.

No matter what age Dick was, scaring the shit out of one Wally West was never a bad greeting.

However at the mention of the former thought, Dick bit the inside of his mouth. He'd heard from Zatanna how hard Wally had taken the breakup. How solemn he was. She was consoling Artemis with what she called the 100% "Girl-Proof" Method (which meant kicking butts and making every thug in a twenty-mile radius cowered in fear), and he took it upon himself to comfort Wally. Even if doing so meant forcing Wally to take the bull by the horns.

Wally barely interacted with any of his old friends anymore unless they came to him. He hadn't dropped by headquarters or attended any of the unofficial parties their (Dick's) teammates enjoyed throwing. Even Dick, who saw more of Wally and Artemis on a daily basis than most, hadn't seen him since July.

_Since the Reach disappeared. _

Dick wanted his best friend back.

Nightwing wanted his best friend back on the team.

He…wanted his best frie—

Wally was asleep.

Staring obliquely through the blurry window, Dick could make out the dip in the queen sized bed, with a form sprawled diagonally over the mattress. He pushed the window open and promptly landed on his feet at the edge of the room.

A freckled hand twisted the pillow beneath the man tightly between his fingers. Red hair fell, meshing together on the surface of the soft cushion, and an arm wrapped stiffly over the case. Wally's face was buried securely in the cloth, his breath muffled as his chest rose and fell in slumber.

The rest of him curled around the pillow like a fitful child holding his favorite toy to carry him throughout the night. Artemis's pillow.

Watching his best friend made Dick's heart drop to his stomach. He swallowed hard, looking at his best friend of eight years tense in his sleep. There was an ache in his chest—one more painful than the knick he had gotten in his shoulder from Clayface. The woeful chirps of crickets echoed from the window, melding with the soft _pat-pat_ of Brucely's feet outside of the room.

The silence Dick felt was positively deafening.

He slunk his gauntlets carefully off his hands, placing them complacently on the nightstand. Bare fingers unbuckled the various straps of belts, memorized from years of wearing the uniform, with eyes that never left the dork curled so tightly on his bed. That _dork_ was probably drooling.

Unzipping his boots, Dick toed them away ever so carefully and treaded the length of the room. The bed dipped beneath his weight, and he crawled toward the center, shoving at Wally's back as he did so.

"Move your ass," he muttered under his breath.

Like wildfire, a jolt of energy shot through the speedster. Wally pushed himself off the bed, gasping for the air and wriggled across the bed before freezing. Emerald green eyes squinted at blue, bleary and jaded by sleep. The left side of Wally's face twitched.

Biting back a smirk and a chuckle to accompany that, Dick pressed a hand to the redhead's chest. He pushed the speedster against the bed, and watched his best friend's hair fall into those eyes. _Those breathtaking eyes. _"Sleep."

"Sleep," Wally slurred, voice low and barely a form of the English language. He raised his hand, making a lazy gesture toward the door. "Queso."

_Queso…? _Dick rolled his eyes. "You're an idiot."

Snort. "Says you." The man turned his head, burying his face back into Artemis'spillow before roughly hitting the space next to him. "Sleep."

Dick's lips twitched. He supposed _Kid Coherency _would now be added to his mental list of _Nicknames for Wally West's Innate Stupidity. _God knows, Wally probably thought he was _Artemis_ of all people, crawling into bed with her ex-boyfriend. He pushed the thought aside in his head, laying down gingerly next to his best friend.

The scent of Old Spice, mixed in with maple syrup and pancakes hit him immediately. Dick buried his face into Wally's back, stifling another laugh and another retort. Wally made a disjointed noise—something that probably meant, _Shut Up, Boy Wonder, or I'll Punch You_, but didn't push him off.

In fact, sleepy-Wally didn't seem to mind or care.

Taking in the whiff of his best friend once more, Dick closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into the man's shoulder blade. His fingers played with the edge of Wally's shirt, curling and rubbing against the material gently.

Right before he fell asleep, he felt Wally move and place the comforter over the both of them.

**xxx**

**Author's Note: **

I wasn't going to post this until I was done with it, but given the finale, I thought someone may want some Birdflash feels. I'll try to get an update iin each Saturday; but we'll see how it goes. (:


	2. Wake Up, STAR Labs, Family, Opportunity

**Chapter 2: **Wakeup, STAR Labs, Family, Opportunity

Dick was still half asleep when he received an elbow to the face.

He groaned, reflexively slinking away from the arm of the perpetrator who hit him, and looked in the dark with slumber filled eyes. Warmth radiated from the body next to him, and in the back of his mind, he remembered that he'd somehow ended up in Wally West's queen-sized bed. He pressed his forehead into the heat on his said friend's neck, breathing in the fragrance of heat, maple syrup and everything else that made up the speedster beneath the thick comforter. His fingers curled against the small of Wally's back and eyes closed for restful slumber.

Wally jerked again. The mattress undulated beneath them as Wally spasmed, and Dick bit the inside of his mouth, focusing on the thought of sleep rather than a speedster who seemed to forget laying down didn't involve _running in place. _

Suddenly, every bit of warmth he felt was stripped away and replaced with numb coldness. Wally pushed off the bed, ultimately untangling from their assortment of knotted limbs and stood to his feet with a soft _crack_ at his ankles. Dick watched slowly as the redhead walked around the bed and shut the door quietly as he left.

Dick waited.

The bed felt alarmingly big, with his body sprawled across the long mattress and limbs unable to touch the sides. His head curled against his forgotten pillow (one that had been "forgotten" when he realized Wally was the perfect head cushion) and closed his eyes.

_Just his luck_, the dark-haired teen thought as he breathed in the scent of Wally's pillowcase, that he would sleep well for the first time in a week, and the reason why had to disappear and take a piss.

He fell asleep before Wally could even open the door again—with less warmth and the beginning of a painful migraine.

When Dick woke up again, the said goofball was still not there.

Light fluttered through the open window from last night, oddly blinding and overbearing to his own eyes. He stirred hazily, matted in musky sweat and hair jutted out in excruciating hedges. The lingering ache from last night now throbbed as he attempted to move around across the length of the bed, with the veins in his neck contracting.

Dick pushed the hair out of his face and felt a foul taste in the back of his throat. He rubbed away the mask of sleep from his eyes, cursing his uniform as he did so and looked at the other end of the bed.

No Wally.

Letting the realization set in, he tentatively slipped out of the bed, letting cold feet touch the chilly surface of the wooden floor before he reached out for the door. _Relax_. It was Friday. Still a school day—Wally probably had a morning class. _Probably slunk back into bed after you fell asleep, Grayson. Then left again. _

Except, somehow he doubted he would have woken up so uneasily if Wally had slunk back into bed.

The lingering taste at the back of his throat soured as he exited the room. Oh.

Sprawled out on the couch was Wally, the redhead's face buried tightly over the arm rest and legs dangling off the other end.

Standing at the door to the bedroom, Dick took in the sight carefully. The coffee table had been contorted at a lumbering angle, with his forgotten duffel bag kicked to the side—most likely by a stumbling speedster through the night. He could hear the man snore soundly from across the room, comfortable in his tiny nest.

_Oh. _

A reason unbeknownst to him, Dick shivered, feeling uncouth and out of place. He pulled himself away from the scenario, rubbed the lax and stiffness from slumber away from his face again, and found himself in the kitchen.

Wally did not wake up until the husky sound of the coffee pot stirring resonated through the apartment. The soft _drip-drip_ of coffee into the pot held the old Boy Wonder's attention, keeping him from studying the way his best friend was passed out over the couch. Part of him debated finding a blanket and laying it over his best friend. Another part of him reasoned that somewhere, there was an alarm clock set for his best friend to wake up and be somewhere eventually.

The last part of him shoved that nagging feeling; the one that strangely made him feel like crap.

Once he poured the fresh coffee into a mug, Dick could hear footsteps behind him as the wooden floors creaked. There was a clinking of dishes—and without even looking, he poured the rest of the pot into the redhead's extended cup.

"Thanks," Wally murmured groggily under his breath.

"No problem."

"You…want milk? Half-and-half? Do you always drink it black?" Each sentence slowly carried with more energy as Wally woke up. The redhead appeared in the corner of the teen's eyes, leaning calmly against the kitchen counter. He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out the said flavoring. "You okay?"

At the side of his vision, Dick watched Wally's face morph with concern. He turned around, pressed up against the kitchen counter and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. I—" Dick stopped short. Before he could finish the sentence with the words, _'—missed you._' Instead, "Your bed feels like a ton of rocks."

"I guess." Wally shrugged. He dumped the contents of his half-n-half into the cup and tossed the carton to the younger man. "You look like shit."

"I'm not the one who fell asleep on the couch."

"Yeah. I." The redhead's voice fell. His lips curled into a frown and he looked up to the ceiling as though it had all the answers. Scratching his head, Wally's face twisted oddly before he shook his head. His hair, per usual, jutted out in an unruly red mess, with an amusing amount of it stuck to the side of his face. "Must've…gotten up, taken a leak, and tripped over the couch—then just fell asleep. I remember hitting my head."

"Only _you_ would hit your head while you take a leak."

Scoff. "Not _during._" Though, Wally's face twisted, animating into amusement. He waved his hand dismissively and took a long sip of his coffee. "Anyway. You got the bed to yourself, right? I've been told I punch in my sleep."

_Elbows, too. _Omitting a sigh, Dick pushed off the counter and sat his unsipped coffee down. He combed fingers through tangled hair and grimaced when realizing they were stuck in knots. "I should go."

"Shower, first?"

Uh. Not even all of the gears in Dick Grayson's mind were turning this early in the morning.

Wally waved his hand toward the open bathroom door, completely content with his _half-n-half_/coffee concoction as he gulped down the rest of it. "I'll leave some spare clothes on the counter. Seriously—you look like crap. Didn't know the _devastatingly handsome_ playboy son could look so ugly."

"You're just a charmer, aren't you?"

"Hey. I'm the one who was in a long term relationship." Wally waved his hand again and grinned.

One had to wonder how Dick went from the one cheering someone up to being cheered up. He stared at his best friend carefully, then nodded before starting for the bathroom. "Won't use your razor or anything. I know how stupid you get about that."

"_Hey. _Your hair's thick. How do you expect me to get your goddamn _luscious _locks out otherwise?" Wally rolled his eyes after him. "I liked you better when you didn't grow facial hair."

"You're just jealous," Dick called back, "because I can grow it faster than _you. _Hahaha."

There was a muffled cry from the other side of the bathroom door. Dick elected to ignore it, in favor of looking at the damage in the mirror. For one thing, Wally had been right—he looked like crap. He'd never slept so poorly in the middle of the night in his life. Grimacing in the mirror, he was met with a startling, gritty smile with grimy sweat stains apparent on the Kevlar of his uniform. _Ugh. _

Dick unzipped the uniform and tossed it aside. There were many bits and pieces that went with the Nightwing uniform, but fortunately most of that had been tossed aside somewhere in Wally's room. He moaned softly, feeling hot water hit him after he stepped into the tub and turned the knob for water.

Closing his eyes, the teen let everything from yesterday's activities be scrubbed away with a bar of soap. He looked around the small tub—completely clean, set with a rubber ducky shower curtain. It had to be the oddest experience—with the oddest way to explain it, once he left the house. _Came to Wally's place, slept with him, shower in the morning._ Yeah. That was going to get a look or two when he got back to the base.

Sighing, Dick tested out his aching shoulder by rotating it carefully. The soreness was dull—most likely to fade by the end of the night. For Alfred's sake, he would go back to his apartment and maybe ice it. Water fell as a heavy comfort, soaking his skin and the thick layer of grime and sweat he'd acquired from patrol. He could see the dirt slide off his own body and swirl around until it disappeared at the bottom of the drain.

Reaching out, Dick grabbed the first bottle of shampoo he could—_Garnier Fructis Length & Strength. _

Well. Suffice to say that it definitely wasn't Wally's.

Quirking an eyebrow of amusement, he poured the contents in the palm of his hands and scrunched the soap in his hair. After that, the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Dick waited a moment, expecting to hear the sufficient _click_ of it _closing_, but it never came. "That you, Wall?"

There was a stumble—maybe a laundry basket that was now suddenly knocked over—and the door shut outside the bathtub with a loud sound.

Snort. Graceful as ever.

As the water turned tepid, Dick shivered. He finished with his quick shower, scrubbing every inch of himself clean, and forced down the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him he was in_ Wally West's bathroom. _Naked. Which—wasn't an unusual thing for him. He'd slept over on occasion when Wally and Artemis first went to college. As Dick's morning slowly dragged on in the West-(ex)Crock duplex, however, he felt more awkward. Like hell he didn't know why.

_Wally West. Single for the first time in five years_—and that was the loudest thing his mind was focused on. Biting the inside of his mouth, Dick groaned loudly and pressed his head to wet shower tiles. Perfect.

Best friend back first, Grayson. Then, convincing said best friend back on the team.

Then, all the way at the bottom of the list, _figure out sad, pathetic feelings. _

He turned the water off as it finally went from lukewarm to plain cold and dried off. Dressing in the clothes Wally had lain out for him, Dick stretched the shirt oddly against his neck and rolled his eyes in the mirror.

Of course his best friend would think _spare change of clothes _meant firmly imprinting a glow-in-the-dark Bat Symbol on his chest.

"_Very funny_, Wally."

Coming out of the bathroom, he was met with an empty apartment. Dick blinked. As he searched the house he found his gloves, boots, utility belt and other things folded neatly on the bed next to his duffle bag. On the bag was a yellow sticky note.

_Running late. Went to STAR Lab for internship. Feed the dog and let yourself out. _

- _Wally_

Dick crumpled the note in his hands.

Very funny.

**xxx**

Last night's spasms had to be the worst, leaving a shooting pain in Wally's back every time he raised his arm. The evening had drawled on so slowly after Dick left that Wally busied himself with miniscule things. He cleaned up the house, ridding it of everything that came in _pairs _(except for his shoes—runner or not, he needed something to walk in), then washed the bed sheets in attempt get rid of Artemis's perfume. (It was a harsh thought, Wally knew—but he figured since Artemis was now living with Zatanna without any trace of him, he had the right to do so without a trace of her.)

In the end, he knew he'd roll onto her side of the bed, burying his face in her pillow and seeking out the last ounce of her scent. He searched for it in his clothes, around the room, and even on the floor. Somehow, Wally managed to fall asleep by convincing himself he would call Dick in the morning to make plans over the weekend. If the guy wasn't busy.

After Dick came, sleeping didn't seem to be a problem. He felt a warmth that hadn't been there in months—since Artemis had left him. Since…Wally had left Dick.

He slept soundlessly, knowing the flesh of another person was right beside him. Best of all, that person was his best friend of eight years—and, Wally concluded, if he never had another lover again he would be perfectly content spending eternity with Dick Grayson.

Then—like he said—the pain kicked in.

Wally winced as the woman—Dr. Shriver—ran gloved hands over his back carefully in search for a bulge or a bump that had not been there before. She stopped her handiwork, pressing her palm at the sore spot in the redhead's back once again, and Wally almost fell off the lab table.

"How does that does that feel?" She asked softly, voice decorated with a Czech accent. Her fingers were firm, pressing at the sharp bone blow his neck.

"Like my spine's on fire," he admitted. Wally looked down to his hands. His good one curled tightly into the table beneath him, while the other sat limp across the surface. Short bursts tingled through the shambled limb before it disappeared into numbness.

The room he was in was only slightly bigger than the one he would find going to the doctor's office. They were painted a sullen baby blue, as though it was a poor attempt to calm a patient down, with various statistics and dull charts with results from the other scientists had posted in his out. Wally's various x-rays were pinned to a board—black and as discomforting as he felt.

"And your hand?"

"Can't feel it. Spreading down my wrist now." Wally ran two good fingers across the veins beneath his forearm and shivered. It felt stiff as he rotated it. Dead. "Woke up last night, left the room to endure the shocks and I guess I passed out. My best friend found me on the couch this morning."

Suddenly he couldn't help the pang of built in his chest. Dick looked unsettled when they saw each other after waking up. After they both showered, Wally would have treated his best friend to _Krispy Kreme Donuts_ and hold his breath until the Boy Wonder told him the problem. Instead, Wally rushed over to the lab first thing, jotting down a quick note and tossing most of Nightwing's belongings onto the bed.

"How long did it last this time?" she asked, reaching over to her clipboard to write notes down.

Wally squeezed his eyes shut. "Ten minutes." Two and a half minutes longer than last time.

Doctor Shriver frowned. "Your last spasm was two weeks ago, Wallace."

It was the closest interval of time between his spasms. Which was what the doctor was getting at. Wally had been experiencing the shocks and jolts in his body for over three years now—back before he started college when he was still Kid Flash. They'd been sporadic and frequent back then, but as he got older and repelled from using his speed, they'd slowly spread out.

_Spread out. Not gone forever. _

"In the past year, you've used your super speed on more than one occasion back on the field. Forcing that energy and added on stress," Dr. Shriver clicked her tongue and went over to the computer across the room to type in her results, "has not done well."

"I've only run a little. When it was needed." Wally's eyebrows crinkled together. "You don't think that could actually accelerate the problem."

"You know as well as I do that it is not about how many times you use your speed, but how you act upon it given the situation." Dr. Shriver pushed her glasses to the bridge of her nose and looked back. "I'm not a speedster myself, but I imagine you're going full throttle, or at least pushing yourself, as you ran."

Only until he could feel the burn in his chest, and his heart collapsing beneath the lashes of crackling energy. Biting the inside of his mouth, Wally leaned back and cradled his bad arm in his lap. _The whir of power. Wind slapping his face as he rushed against it. A gravel path as traction for his feet. And…claws, digging into his heart and ripping out of his stomach. Ribs feeling like they were vibrating out of his body. _

"How long do you think I have then?" he asked quietly, forcing the thoughts away from his mind. "Until I lose the feeling in the rest of me?"

"My guess is as good as yours." Dr. Shriver shook her head solemnly. "We'll keep testing you. Stretch the problem out as long as we can."

"And if this past year has just killed me already?"

"Hopefully, we'll find out today."

Wally nodded in agreement. He reached over the table to put his shirt back on, then carefully eased onto the floor. Discomfort shot through his left leg, straining the limb as he stood flat on his feet. Instinctively, he seethed, hoping to balance out the problem. Instead, he gripped the table beneath him with his good hand, dead one falling at his side.

Dr. Shriver looped an arm beneath him, carefully supporting the boy that was two heads taller than her. Wally sucked in a breath, quietly thanking the woman. When he opened his eyes, he only saw pity in her eyes.

"Give it a few seconds," Wally assured her, voice cracking. "I'll be fine."

And thank god he was—up on his feet and able to walk after a few steady heartbeats.

He was only partially lying when he explained to Dick his internship to STAR Labs. Wally had taken it earlier in the year when Artemis had gone deep undercover, in hopes to keep himself busy. And…to keep himself from returning to the field. It was hard—evidence given when he'd put the suit on when his cousin first arrived, and again upon hearing Nightwing's announcement they would finally put the mission behind them and get both Artemis _and_ Kaldur back.

The first time his body had gone into hyper-accelerated shock at work, he'd dropped the humdrum order of lattes and designated coffees for his new mentors and collapsed at the ground. The pain was like having a knife wedged in every opening between his ribcage—each rotating, turning axels until points spiked the disks in his back. Then his bones threatened to vibrate out of his body, carving into the flesh and meat that compacted his being so tightly. Wally would sometimes forget the ability to breathe—which was when he would tap out the time waited with his right index finger.

That had been right after Bart came. After the, _'why not_' of putting the suit back on again, because there was the part of him that begged to be on the field again. Between his mentor, and evidently the future descendent of the Flash Family. Worth the pain though.

A different doctor had found him in the supply closet, hunched over with his back to the wall and beads of sweat sliding down his face. When asked why the coffee was strewn across the ground, Wally told the unconvinced scientist that he'd tripped. Three weeks later when he had another shock (thank god a much weaker one), the same doctor confronted him. Wally had the red hair, the proper build, and was in the proper age range to be Kid Flash. For a doctor that had grown up as a Flash fan from Central City, it wasn't hard to convince him to help Wally finally isolate the problem.

Apparently civilians weren't as oblivious as most heroes made them out to be. Wally liked to think it was the science degree that helped.

(There was also the fact his red hair made him a giveaway—but, he decided not to mention it.)

They would test his decaying reflexes and his reaction time—asking him to squeeze stress balls and handles to measure how much of a grip still remained in his bad hand. He'd taken the tests at least twice a month, and more, if there happened to be a spasm. Other methods involved physical therapy to test his legs; to see how much feeling still remained.

A pulse monitor would be strapped to his wrist, and for them he would run circles around a large arena that was meant to help metahumans control their abilities. Around and around, in circles with his old Kid Flash goggles strapped to his face and the adrenaline slapping his cheeks until he felt his chest tighten in immense pain. The duration of time he could hold his speed was also measured. If anything were to happen in the lab, they were there to control the situation.

Through speed vision, he saw the blurred characters of his three doctors, all anticipating the moment he would need to stop. Wally could see the laptop in Dr. Shriver's hands, and the tiny frown that furled over her face.

Running, as always, was different than it was the last time. He didn't put the strain on himself as he would on the field. Once he felt the familiar pang in his torso, Wally decelerated into walking distance and halted in front of the collection of doctors.

"How was that?" Pushing the goggles out of his face, he reached for a bottle of water on the table and chugged the contents empty.

"700 miles per second, per usual. Just a little bit under the speed of sound." Dr. Shriver tapped down the results.

"I can go faster." Wally winced, feeling a patch of dryness in the back of his throat. He reached for another bottle of water and bit the inside of his mouth. "It's just that every time I do, I end up…hitting his wall."

Once the pain arrived, it was a force that usually put him back. Dodging attacks at the summit back in June and neutralizing Neutron in February made the pain less noticeable, but he'd have a numb feeling in his muscles for a few days. After _June…_it'd been a week before he felt like himself again. One long week that involved Artemis and this '_hero_' argument.

"So what happens next?" Wally asked. He unstrapped the pace monitor from his wrist and rolled on the balls of his feet to make sure they were still there. His calves felt numb—like they'd fallen asleep.

Dr. Shriver looked to Dr. Cheung and Dr. Attar tentatively, silently concurring for the next plan of action.

"More tests," she announced.

**xxx **

Surprisingly, Mom had waited until later that afternoon to call him. Wally assumed that she'd been trying to refrain herself from picking up a phone once he informed her that Artemis and decided to end it for good. The last few months had been back and forth anyway, fighting about the hero thing. _I don't want you to get hurt_, he argued with her. _What about our _friends_? _she argued back. Wally knew better than to put down the job their friends committed themselves to. _Not job. Life. _

They'd broken up officially the week before, but they might as well have been done when Dick had made that phone call all those months ago back in January. He'd confided in Uncle Barry about it in following months, letting his anger get the best of him so he refused to talk to Nightwing. Not that he could, anyway—the stress of being leader and trying to maintain sanity with the team made him a preoccupied bird. Wally's uncle had to be the most patient guy he knew, giving that sad golden-retriever kicked puppy look when Wally announced his retirement. It'd been heartbreaking on both ends because…Wally really, _really_ did _not_ want to give up the mantle.

But he managed to choke out the words, "I can't be Kid Flash forever," and Uncle Barry understood.

When it came to his mom, she absolutely adored Artemis. It was almost frightening. Okay—_really_ frightening. She and Aunt Iris were scary forces (and sheesh, now that Aunt I was pregnant, Wally knew that he didn't want to get on her bad side) that Wally knew better than to get cross with. Once Mom found out what the fighting with Artemis had been about, she nearly bashed his skull in for ever suggesting keeping Artemis away from doing what she loved.

The last time they visited, Mom gave Artemis a motherly peck on the cheek as though talking to her own child and wished her all the happiness. Now, it came time to console her baby boy after being in a long-term relationship of five years. She promised him food, and bought Tupperware for comfort food that would last him at least today and tomorrow. He pointed out it was basically an ego-bruiser for her to invite the entire family over with the subject title, _Comfort Wally after a Nasty Breakup. _

She then nagged him for sulking and bribed him with macaroni and little smokies. _Oh yeah. _Wally West Fact: He had the best mother ever.

After all the tests at STAR Labs, they instructed Wally to take the rest of the day off and relax. He returned to his house, which felt too big for an occupant of one. The dog had been fed, and according to the sticky note Dick left on the door, also let out to pee. _Trust Mister Perfect to make his life easier. _

And, you know, harder, given their track record and the amount of bruises Wally had acquired since meeting one nefarious Dick Grayson. The coffee mugs were washed, bed had been made, and bathroom sink even clean from when Dick stayed over. The house was empty. Unnerving.

So, Wally hopped into the shower to rid of the copious amount of sweat he'd acquired while at STAR Labs and the morning smog from earlier. He'd always heard the first night after a huge breakup was the worst, but Wally factored that into waking up with the remote digging in his back and legs dangling over the armrest. The fact didn't slap him in the face until Mom's phone call that—yeah. Artemis and he were broken up.

Now he was wondering how he managed to go twenty-four hours without thinking of her—and wondered, if he could make that work for the rest of eternity. Wally made a mental note to call Dick. That was going to make him feel better—and he knew the guy was hoping to salvage their friendship as much as he did.

His dad, just as usual, was waiting to meet him at the zeta-beam point in Central City once he arrived. The fresh scent of cottonwood trees and bread from the nearby bakery filled his nose, and Wally could feel the gusto of home swell in his belly.

Evidently, Dad had fallen asleep waiting on him. Wally nearly scared the poor man as he banged on the car door. They pulled over to pick up a box of donuts (and donut holes, for Bart) on the ride home and turned the station to politics to make fun of the candidates.

"You doing well?" Dad asked gruffly as they were halfway through town.

He didn't ask like Mom would once they got home. However, the questions Wally always received from his old man were fit and straight to the point. The redhead leaned back in his seat, a sloppy sigh rattling from his throat. "Like my heart's been trampled by a giant elephant and thrown out with monkey shit."

"Vivid," the man mused, and he chuckled on his breath.

"You and Mom. You're not…mad that she and I weren't endgame, right?" Wally only said that because this was the year he feared Artemis and he wouldn't last. And for that thought to even cross his _mind…_well. That made him feel like dirt. "You know. That Artemis and I didn't end up lasting?"

Dad made an old nose from Wally's childhood—one that usually meant his son had done something incredibly stupid and very amusing. They made their way to the suburban part of Central City and pulled into Wally's old neighborhood. "Son, your mother and I both love Artemis. But you're going to have more relationships in some life. Maybe one more—maybe more than one more. Just because your mother and I were high school sweethearts doesn't mean we expect you and her to be the same."

"Message received." Wally snorted. "Maybe I'll just switch to guys."

Again, Dad made the sound that cued the redhead's (apparently) infamous stupidity. Though the reason why, Wally never thought to ask.

"I was serious about that." Wally smirked wryly.

Which was met with a smile under his dad's mustache. "Me too, son."

They pulled up behind Jay and Joan's old sedan and the new SUV Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry bought for the babies. Once Bart had "spoiled" the fact they were expecting twins (and Uncle Barry'd gotten over the shock that his wife was pregnant _and_ having twins), the second Flash had made several incomprehensible hand gestures and blabbed aloud, "_Car._"

Once the kids were old enough, Barry wouldn't be able to haul three people over his shoulder as he normally would. (Well—Uncle Barry _could_, but it just wouldn't be a wholesome family image.) According to Aunt I, Barry tended to leave it at work six nights out of seven.

Bart was darting around the house in his uniform, fixing up the living room and also setting up the table for eight. He stole the donut holes out of Wally's grip before Dad or he could announce their presence. Seven of those donut holes were already in Bart's mouth by the time he slowed down. "Crash! Thanks!"

Wally groaned and rolled his eyes. "Did you run here like this?"

"Sedan's slow. Plus—came all the away from Bludhaven." The brunet looked up to his cousin childishly and crammed another hole into his mouth. "I feel naked in civvies."

Twitch. Wally decided best not to comment.

"_Wally._" At that moment, Aunt Iris waddled into the room with her swollen belly—nearly nine months pregnant, with the babies soon to come in the following weeks. She gasped happily once her eyes set on her nephew and brought him into a bone-crushing hug. "I was wondering when you would show your face."

"Got a little held up at my internship." Lie. Wally smiled evenly and hugged her back—"_Whoa. _Was that a kick?"

"Only a few more weeks until their due date." Iris sighed forlornly and rubbed her belly with a tiresome, wistful look and then eyed Uncle Barry playfully as he came into the room. "Though can't say I didn't expect that. Runners can't seem to sit still. Like this one." She ruffled a hand through Bart's hair affectionately to convey her point, who beamed.

Uncle Barry sunk a bite into his apple, clearly confused of what he'd just walked into. "Sorry?"

Aunt Iris ignored him and placed a hand on Wally's shoulder. "Or like you."

"Ex-runner," Wally corrected almost instinctively. Realizing he was surrounded by family, he omitted the need to restrain a heavy sigh. His aunt kissed him affectionately on the cheek.

"How you holding up?"

"Elephant trampling heart. Then thrown out like monkey poo." Wally waved his hand—_been there, done that. _The question would be asked at least a dozen more times before the night was over. At the moment Wally was ready to drown that said heart out with macaroni and little weenies.

Before he had the chance to dwell on depressing ministrations, Uncle Barry placed a hand a hand on his shoulder with a sympathetic smile curling across his lips. "How about we take a run later? That may clear your head."

Right. Running. Shaking his head, Wally forced a smile of his own, trying to match the man's kindness, but it broke. "Not right now, Uncle Barry. Rain check?"

Hesitation fluttered across the man's face, but Uncle B finally agreed. "I'm holding you to it."

The rest of his night went smoothly. Aunt Iris requested Bart to change out of his uniform to formal wear, to which he obediently agreed after zipping upstairs ("_You little_—is that my sweater?" "It'snotlikeit'llfityouanymore. Besides, it looks good on me!"). They set the dinner table with many of Wally's favorite entrees (aka—everything). Mom showered him in kisses until Wally's face was permanently covered in lipstick, and the evening carried on like one of their Flash Family dinners.

Bart swiped food off his plate (the brat was just so damn _small_), so Wally would do the same. ("Heythat'ssonotfair!" "All's fair in food and war!") Eventually, the entire thing had dissolved into a giant eating contest until "Aunt" Mary pulled them both by the ear and demanded they quit. And being the mother she was, she already had more entrees ready in the kitchen, knowing that the pair would somehow end up bickering.

When Mom, Joan, and Aunt Iris started discussing giving birth, how much Wally weighed at birth—what _nipples_ were the best kind to buy—they agreed childbirth was gross, unsettling, and that they'd never want to be women.

Wally would never admit it, but past the annoyance (and admittedly, a little jealousy) of Bart being _Bart_, he liked watching his little cousin run around the house and collect dirty plates. A smile would grace the boy's lips—bright and vivid no matter how many times he did it in the night, with eyes that glowed every time someone addressed him. He, along with Uncle Barry, were always the first to get up if Aunt Iris requested something, and would politely listen to both 'Aunt Mary' and Joan.

It was better than what Bart had grown up with.

_Really, the kid fit in just fine with the family. _

Eventually, the topic finally circled back to Wally.

"You have any plans now that Artemis and you are broken up?"

The redhead looked across the table to Jay's kind smile mid-bite. There was a way that he smiled that made Wally automatically smile back. Setting down his spoon, he struggled to maintain that said grin, but it dissolved into a frown. "Dunno, really. I've got till the end of next month until my lease is up. And I actually want to keep the dog, so…" Shrug. "Maybe see if I can find an apartment nearby that allows pets. Once I graduate, I planned on moving to Keystone. So I could commute from there.."

"Running?" Bart piped in bluntly. He swiped a chicken leg from his cousin's plate.

Wally swiped it back. _"Zetabeaming._"

"And socially, dear?" Joan smiled next, clasping her hands together affectionately. She leaned forward to hear his answer.

Again, Wally couldn't help but shrug and scratched his head. "How soon is 'too soon' to start dating again?"

Oddly, all of the adults at the table exchanged looks. What Wally saw at the other end of the table reminded him of the way Shriver, Cheung, and Attar had all looked at him.

"You're taking this break up much cleaner than I would have expected, dear." Mom flashed a look, eyebrows contorted together. She looked ready to cry.

"Yeah, well." Wally shrugged and looked down at his food. He wasn't sure how to say, _we basically broke up the moment Artemis put on that Tigress uniform _without it sounding like…that. Artemis and he essentially prepared for it the entire year.

Silence was the only probable conclusion to his sentence. None of his family members knew how to correspond. Eventually, Barry zipped over to him and patted Wally on the back. In his hand was the gravy boat and a bowl of mashed potatoes.

"You take as much time as you need." Uncle Barry scooped the food on the redhead's already massive pile on his plate and ruffled his hair affectionately. "You'll be back on your feet and find a nice girl when the time's right. Like your aunt."

The redhead thanked his old mentor quietly before the evening could crumple into an awkward silence. Picking up his spoon again, the corner of his lip raised wryly. "It's not _all_ that bad, I guess. Dick and I are reigniting our friendship. I think he thinks the breakup is his fault, but I'm at the point I don't care." He was just happy to get his best friend back.

Silence again. Great. He made it mental proof for his mother the next time she suggested a giant Flash Family dinner to _cheer him up. _

"Is he seeing anyone right now?" Aunt Iris asked amiably.

"Not that I'm aware of." Wally turned his head to his cousin for confirmation.

Bart shrugged and grinned impishly. "Who knows! No one ever tells me anything."

"That's because you _barge into the room _and find out before anyone can actually _tell_ you." Wally rolled his eyes and nudged the boy in the arm. "Anyway, why? I can invite him over next time if you want. Don't think he'd be opposed to that."

"No reason, hon." Then Aunt Iris smiled—one that was supported by everyone else in the room; even Dad under his mustache. "How about we actually eat now, before Bart takes it all?"

Uh. "Alright."

The rest of dinner with smoothly—until Bart and he got into a dinner roll fight. They watched the football game, tossed _a _football in the backyard, and all got a feel of Aunt Iris's belly when the twins started kicking again.

**xxx **

Wally returned to his house exhausted.

He dropped the keys onto the coffee table and fell over face-first on his couch. Let it be known that one was _not_ to underestimate how much food was presented at a Flash Family dinner—it was enough for him to deliver a food baby or two later tonight. The redhead sighed blissfully—and achingly. There wasn't anything more pleasant than being able to eat himself into exhaustion.

Well, maybe sex. But he figured he wouldn't be getting any of that for a while.

"Hiya."

"_Gah._"

Then, there was Bart. Who, in eight months of knowing him, still didn't know the definition of _knocking. _Wally groaned as he heard the speedster run about his house—no doubt to find a snack in the fridge. Bart probably found the cookies Megan had brought over the day before as a sort of comfort food for the redhead. Looking up, Wally found his cousin staring back at him with a wily grin and chocolate chips smeared on his face. All while in uniform.

"You do realize Bludhaven is in the _other direction, _right?" He pointed his hand for emphasis. Weekends, if he was right, were still reserved for missions.

Bart ran circles around the coffee table, provoking Brucely to raise his drowsy head from the floor in curiosity. "Yeahwell, I can be there in _seconds. _No worries, _hermano. _Anyway, I wanted to talk to you!"

"If this is about getting you tickets to Comicon, I'm not doing it."

"It's about your powers."

Pause. Wally propped himself on his arms and stared at the kid warily. "What about them?"

"You're dying." Bart sobered—the look of boyishness disappearing from his face and eerily contorting. The seriousness of his demeanor made chills run through the back of Wally's neck. "Aren't you?"

_What the hell. _

Green eyes stared at green, stun glowing in the redhead's orbs. HIs breath caught, until all air depleted from his lungs and throat dried—everything to keep from conjuring a smart response for the speedster that stood parallel to him.

Before he could think of an excuse—confirm, or deny the claim, Bart continued. His demeanor softened and he set the cookies aside on the table carefully. "I read a lot of history books about the past. Of course I'd read about you too. First cousin, once removed, remember? And after all, you do become—" The brunet's voice stopped.

"Become what?" Wally repeated once he found his voice again.

Impulse shook his head, his arms crossing in refusal to answer the question. In the dark it wasn't hard to recognize the guilt in his irises. "Nothing important now. But. The book does talk about your powers. And the…situation." He moved his hands in a way similar to Barry's—and partially, like Wally himself. In the back of his mind the redhead couldn't help but remind himself that this was a kid whose '_character'_ had been built to fool all of them. "Numbness. Loosing feeling in your body and stuff. Am I right?"

The shock was still making its way through Wally's mind as he watched the teen in front of him. Bart looked nervous—like he hadn't exactly planned on how to address the situation. Blabbing had its benefits. "And?"

"You get through it. You don't die." Bart's eyes glowed with concern. He clutched the arm rest carefully and squeezed it tightly between his fingers. His gaze darted to the ceiling, to the floor—everywhere, nervously. Then to Wally again, completely serious with his brow furrowed. "The books just…weren't clear how. And I'm not really sure _exactly, but—_"

"You're saying there's a cure."

Bart blinked—clearly not expecting the interruption. "Yeah. You get your speed back and everything."

"I get to be Kid Flash again?" The words left Wally's mouth before he had the chance to think of what he'd just said. His speed would come back. No way. _No way. _Again, he repeated, "There's a cure."

Nod, nod. "You...found one. Like I said, I don't know how—"

"_There's a cure._"

The speedster breathed huffily, looking ready to blow from constant interruption. Dizzy in the head, Wally obediently backed off. _Calm it, _West. Bart said there was a cure. But that he didn't know what it was. "I…can't tell you what it is. I don't _know_ it. But I can help you find it."

Wally stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open in shock.

"I won't tell anyone either. About the problem. The invasion's over, and…you're my mission now. I." Impulse shook his head, his hair waving as he did so like a child's. He looked smaller than he did before—like a frightened little boy with bright emerald green eyes. "I won't let you die."

The elder speedster's eyes were wet. His heart thrummed wildly in his chest, and Wally's lips pressed together.

Before the boy could blink, he had his baby cousin in a tight hold—constricting, with arms wrapped firmly around his baby cousin's torso. Bart made a sound—one that wasn't out of protest. Wally's head buried in the crook of the brunet's neck and he took in a deep breath to calm himself—to keep his head from spinning too much.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Bart hugged him back, hands fisting into Wally's t-shirt and nose nuzzling Wally's ear. "Anytime, cuzzo."

**xxx**

**Author's Note: **

Well, that's it for today. Thank you so much for all of the comments for chapter one; I really like how this story's going so far. (: Feel free to check out the other stuff I've got written! And review if you can!


	3. Calendar, Show Down, Pancakes, Basketbal

**Chapter 3: **Calendar, Show Down, Pancakes, Basketball

A week later found Nightwing at the Watchtower with his legs propped over the computer and hands fiddling with the calendar on his holocomp. Beneath the mask his eyebrows were pinched together and a frown was curled firmly at his lips. The team was sent home once the mission was over—leaving Dick Grayson by himself and struggling to rearrange his schedule to fit around Wally's. Or rather—to figure out when Wally had free time.

His said best friend had been busy over the past few days. He didn't want to push it by visiting Wally's place again unannounced—in case things really had gone sour since his last visit. Dick had left the after a few kind acts of his own—_clean the living room, wash the dishes…_

Something to busy himself and make the situation a bit more normal. Half the week Wally's phone had been turned off. Dick texted, but it would take hours before Wally would respond. The one conversation they'd gotten into, Wally had sounded stressed with Bart's voice in the background.

Well. At least there was someone who could cheer him up. Dick decided once he changed, he would make the gesture of once more of just…showing up. If that wasn't too forward. Dick sunk in his seat and pressed a hand to his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and groaned.

Great, Grayson. Play the tentative crush. That was definitely his M.O. But that hadn't been his only concern.

Peaking through his fingers, he let the holocomp switch to the personal notes that he'd made throughout the night when he was out with the redhead. Wally had cut him off at every instance before he could suggest the red and yellow suit again.

The redhead disliked the thought of being at one end of a relationship, when his other half would be on the field and putting herself in danger on a regular basis. Given the crazy year and 'faking' deaths, Dick couldn't blame him on that account. Yet, in all the instances that Wally could have made his life faster (like cleaning up their chip fight) Wally had done so slowly. He'd walked through every room at a languid, human pace and…_even drove a car now. _Yikes.

"You look like shit."

"Funny. I've been getting that a lot lately." Immediately shutting the holocomp off, the corner of Dick's lip curled. A hand squeezed his shoulder, comforting and sweet, but also made him feel worse.

Artemis threw a powerade in his lap and greeted him with a smirk. She looked to him from the side with a hand placed securely on the chair. The two of them had to be the only ones left. Awake, anyway. "Wanna talk about it?"

"It involves Wally."

"Uhuh. Wanna talk about it?"

To that, Dick had to turn his head. He arched an eyebrow in the blonde's direction, mouth upturned in confusion. Despite his reaction, Artemis's demeanor remained. Which…somehow made him more self-conscious than he had been ten minutes ago. Or—in general.

"Never mind." Artemis swiped the Powerade from his grasp and pulled the old Boy Wonder to his feet. She was dressed in civvies—a dark turtleneck, jeans, and a pair of good walking boots. In a matter of seconds, she toed the pair off and trekked back into the vast empty space. "We'll spar."

"You're kidding."

Apparently not, given the next look Artemis dared to give him. The amusement on her face had yet to falter. Instead, she seemed to deem it a perfect excuse to goad him on. "Call it aggressive-aggressive therapy."

"_Right._" And Dick couldn't his own smile. In fairness, he unequipped both his utility belt, eskrima sticks, and toed off his shoes. Then, the old acrobat stepped forward in Artemis's space, assuming a more alert stance. They stared each other down, brown eyes at opaque lenses. Dick couldn't help the lump in his throat.

"So?" she asked finally. Artemis took the first strike. She feigned a punch, forcing Dick to fall back. Whirling around her, the teen grabbed their team's archer by the arm.

"How am I supposed to answer that?" Dick's voice strained in good humor and confusion. His thoughts immediately jumped to '_bed with Wally.' _

The blonde in front of him twisted her body and delivered a quick swift to his jaw. Dick grunted in surprise, stumbling a few steps back, but recovered. They went back to circling each other, Nightwing's hand rubbing his mouth gingerly and Artemis warily grinning. "Pretend that he and I never dated. Or that at the moment I'm not in the equation, so you can tell me what you two _idiots_ were up to."

"But I don't—"

"Talk to me like you would a friend to another friend, instead of the ex-girlfriend to your B.F.F." This time, Artemis's demeanor morphed slightly, her eyes narrowing in a dry threat. "We're friends. Aren't we, Boy Wonder? I'll kick your ass if some stupid bro-code means more to you than what we've been through together."

"I'm the one to blame for getting you two involved after three years of your retirement." Dick charged forward. He aimed to punch her, and the archer pivoted back with trained grace. Watching her with bated breath, he swung a leg in her direction and sucked on the inside of his cheek. "_I'm_ the one who separated you."

"Is _that_ what you're on?' Artemis swooped and delivered an elbow to the teen's stomach—which had more feeling to it than it normally would. She scoffed, and immediately the impishness from earlier disappeared, morphing infuriatingly. Which was when she swept her feet and forced Dick to the ground.

He landed with a grunt, and Artemis mounted him. "_Oof._"

She scowled. Uh-oh. An elbow was jutted at Dick's jugular, and immediately he knew he was in trouble. He didn't even try to break free. "You do realize that Wally and _I_ are the ones that broke up," she started slowly, "aren't you?"

"I _know_ that."

"_I'm_ the one who decided to come back onto the team," Artemis carried on, voice rising vehemently. "_Not_ you. _Not_ him."

"And I'm _glad_ to have you back. And he _respects_ your decision to go back to the team. His anger just…" Dick shrugged jerkily, looking up to the evident frown across the blonde's face. "It has to go somewhere."

Her demeanor softened. Barely. A flicker of concern appeared in her expression, then immediately evaporated. Artemis pressed her elbow harder at his neck, lips stretched again. "Talk to him."

"Did."

"And?"

"How long has he driven a _Honda_?"

Pause. Blink, blink. Artemis tilted her head, eyes widening. Inwardly Dick groaned, anticipating the moment she would deck him. Instead, a carefully pronounced, _"Huh_," left her lips—and then she—_"PfffftthahaahahahAHAHAHAhaha haa!_"—laughed.

Dick blinked owlishly, looking at the blond in utmost confusion. Regardless, the woman above him simply toppled back, hand clutching her gut as another roll of chortles left her throat. She tossed her head back, cackling at the top of her lungs.

He rolled his eyes. "You _D-O-N-E_ yet?"

"_N. O._" The team's archer wiped a tear from her eye and sighed softly. Slowly, she reclined and stood to her feet and sucked in a breath. Once Artemis was done laughing, Dick could see a flicker in her eyes. The smile that followed was miniscule, with thoughtfulness to her gaze that made his chest tingle guiltily.

"I'm serious," Dick started, feeling the need to clarify. "Clean seats. Proper mirror. Both hands on the wheel, driving _perfectly fine_—"

Artemis raised a hand to stop him. She extended it to help the teen up, and squeezed it tightly as they saw each other at eye level. Her smile stretched just slightly, even if the tension was still visible in her gaze. "You just let me beat your ass in a spar, Dick. Go hit the showers and put some civvies on. You need some evening pancakes."

Snort. That'd been how he ended up in bed with Wally. He was ready to say no, but the grin the blonde was giving him was too much to try and decline.

The old Boy Wonder considered himself lucky that their archer and he had known each other for so long. Artemis roughly pushed Nightwing in the direction of the team's 'designated lockers.' "C'mon. We're going to Flo's."

When he returned, Artemis had coordinated the zeta-beam to Gotham City. The diner both of them thought of was only two blocks away from their zeta-beam telephone booth, and the walk there had been silent. Dick thought better than to pester her. The way his night was going, he assumed he would be treading carefully for a while. Or, Arty was truly separating his problems and her life left behind with Wally. It didn't help that neither one seemed to jump at the idea of possibly getting back together.

Every once in a while, the blonde would pull out her phone and skim it for messages. By the time they got to Flo's Diner, Dick had a clear idea as to why.

"Is Kaldur really that worried about you?" He opened the door for her and looked expectantly as the archer's eyebrow raised in surprise. Dick only shrugged.

Before the Invasion was over, Kaldur had been reinstated as an official member of the team. Superboy, Miss Martian, Zatanna, and Rocket had taken the decision well. Other elder members too, relieved that an important powerhouse to their team had not turned evil. Yet there were still upturned eyebrows and few voiced concerns from junior members who had no choice but obey the decision or even leave.

(Fortunately in the next months it hadn't come to that. Discussing the ordeal with both Conner and Kaldur earlier on, they agreed it was a strange relief to see that the younger members were not willing to simply stand down.)

The following week had been a test for Artemis to officially return. Gar, knowing her as long as he did, had been ecstatic. The hesitation was apparent among other members, but they were hushed seeing Artemis on the field again. No one could doubt her skills. And—Dick did more than acknowledge them at times. Kaldur had been amongst the first to welcome her back. After so many months of working undercover together, it made sense they fell alongside each other.

"He wants to make sure that I'm adjusting," Artemis said finally. They sat at a booth, ordered two separate drinks and—got down to talking.

The diner that they had gone to had been inspired by the 50s, with black and white tiled floors. Waitresses got by with old roller skates and wore the same dark red poodle skirts. They greeted each table happily and the question, _"What brings you guys to our retro-tastic diner?_" The first time Artemis and he had come here was back in sophomore year when an old classmate, Bette Kane suggested it. They'd ended up laughing for hours—and downing six or seven malts that made them look as gluttonous as the old resident speedster.

Artemis's casual look disappeared, wry as her gaze narrowed to the teen and she shook her head dismissively. "You know Kal. He worries."

"Of course he does." That was what made him so respectable. Dick regarded his friendship with the man dearly after so many years. "Maybe I'm just surprised to see he owns a phone."

"It's waterproof."

"Are…_you_ adjusting well?"

"For the most part." Artemis took the menus that had been lain out for them by their waiter. She sifted through the booklet without actually looking, and eyed the man across from her. Having her back on the team for the past week had been fantastic.

In many ways, Miss Martian had compared it to having Black Canary on the team again as a den mother. Wonder Girl had warmed up to their returning member quickly, Impulse seemed flippant about the idea of new members. To his surprise, Tim had been the one to pull Dick aside and make sure he hadn't ended up rolling himself into another stress ball. Most importantly, the way Artemis acted and reacted on the field made all of them happy. There was a light in her eye; a beautiful, victorious gleam that let Nightwing and the rest of the senior members know how much she loved and missed playing the field again.

Artemis stirred the straw in her drink and sipped it carefully. "I'd be better if Wally had been on board with it."

"Sorr—"

"Don't." She raised a hand again, blonde eyebrows pinching together in frustration. Dick couldn't help but think in the back of his mind of how Wally'd done the same thing the first night they were together. Brown eyes opened, narrowing at the teen that sat parallel to him, and stared at him sternly. "There's no fucking way in _hell_ that I'm going to let you sit across from me and apologize for a choice that had been my _own_, Dick Grayson. Wally does not, and _has never_ spoken for me. It was _my_ decision to come back to the team. And we _both_ made the adult decision to see other people when that happened. I should shove my quiver down your _throat_ for trying to go in this whole, _macho-'It's-my-fault' _route. You don't talk for me either."

"Okay. Okay, point taken." Dick raised his hands as a peace sign, making a face as he did so. He grimaced as Artemis backed off, content with the reaction. "Sorry. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can." Artemis arched an eyebrow, surprise registering in her features. Like, _why would he even need to ask that_?

"The car thing. _Why?_" That had to be the weirdest thing he'd seen the entire night he was with their old resident speedster. Maybe since he donned the mask and the cape. The times that he'd ever been in a moving vehicle with the pair, Artemis had always been designated driver. She tutted when Wally would bring food into the vehicle and smacked him if anything dripped.

The said girl looked to him. She blinked, then lowered her shoulders with a smile quirked across her lips. "Weird to see him drive, isn't it? He used to be terrible at it. Idiot got a speeding ticket like every other mile."

"All he ever went was five over." Wally West _only_ going five miles over the speed limit was never a sentence that crossed Dick's mind. Now he couldn't help the face that went along with it. "This…_slowing down_ thing. I didn't think he was so serious about it."

"Apparently it was a graduation present. The car, I mean." Shaking her head, Artemis looked to him carefully and sipped the rest of her milkshake. "It was the only thing that he asked his old man for right before college. I ended up driving for the most part. Which was fine. _Finally_ some open road. You know Gotham. It's either subways, taxis, or walking. Or in your case, a nice stretch limo."

"But. _Wally._" Dick made a gesture with his hands as though that described everything. He could see Artemis's gaze follow it—and for some reason, her lips twitched. "It didn't seem weird to you when he did it?"

"You know as well as I do that he puts the suit on if he really needs to. He's done it over the years." Artemis shook her head. "He and I both lived in dorm rooms our first two years in college. Dunno how his roommate took it, but Wally committed and slowed down. He was even late for a few dates once."

"Valentine's Day, 2014." Dick translated for her. One of Wally's bigger screw-ups.

The demeanor across her face softened. She shook her head gently, clearly replaying the memory in her head before pushing the hair out her face. Dick bit the inside of his mouth.

"I really am sorry," he muttered, and his chest tightened. "That you two broke up."

She'd probably gone the entire week hearing it from their friends. Artemis's eyes shut tight and she waved her hand dismissively before rubbing the ache out of her temples, clearly annoyed at how many apologies she'd gotten. "It was for the best. But." She looked to him expectantly, her hand curled tight around her glass. "You…really don't like the fact that he's retired, do you?"

_I hate it._ "I can't be mad at him if he wanted to step down. It was his decision." Dick ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "But speed is just who he is. For as long as I've known him, it's…been his thing. For him to not acknowledge it just…makes me mad." Yet every time he brought it up, Wally only got more annoyed. "And I can't _hang_ with him the way it is now. I dropped everything _last weekend_ to go see him. Don't think that'll fly over twice."

"You miss him," Artemis translated.

"I miss him," Dick agreed. "I want my best friend back."

"If…it helps," she reached over and placed a hand over his. "He felt like shit whenever you were given the leadership and he quit. He kept telling me how those two things shouldn't have coincided together."

"We were on good terms back then." A lot better than they were now. Easier with words and joking. When Wally and Artemis both announced that they were retiring from the team to focus on college, Wally had run out to him to make sure he was okay.

And babbled for what seemed like hours why the younger teen would still be able to operate without him. Wally promised they would keep in touch. Then, missions and schedule differences simply got in the way. And after the few instances Artemis spoke of where the redhead had put the suit back on, Wally had gotten stubborn as to why he wasn't Kid Flash anymore. More insistent that he wasn't a hero.

"_No_, Dick. He worried. A lot." A blonde eyebrow raised in the air. "I found him sitting in the souvenir room of the cave, staring at everything we'd collected over the years. Giving up being Kid Flash was the biggest decision he had to make. And he felt like he'd let you _down._"

"That's…" Wally had made it sound easy back then. Put the goggles and the running boots away and start a different life. Staring down at his drink, Dick swallowed hard.

"Wally puts the suit on now like he can turn it on and off. It's not that he hates running." Artemis's hand curled against his firmly and she smiled sympathetically. "Look. You and I probably know the guy better than anyone. He's been my boyfriend for five years, and four and eleven months of those, he's been an idiot. It'll be a while before he and I can be in the same room again. But you've got know that _I _don't blame you for our breakup and I'm sure if Wally has his head out of his ass, he's not blaming you for it either."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Artemis's eyebrow twitched and her look hardened, lips firmly put together. She studied him carefully, dark brown eyes scrutinizing every bit of the younger man. "If…you want something more than that, Dick, I won't be angry with you."

Pause. Dick met her eyes, blue orbs blinking.

"Seriously." If even possible, the archer in front of him—one of his closest and dearest friends, squeezed his hand tighter. "Okay?"

_Did she just…_? The team leader's mind went blank and his jaw slackened. He looked down to his menu, mind spinning and suddenly lost the ability to read. "Oh."

Just then, their waitress rolled by and apologized for such a long wait. She held out her notepad and asked them what they'd like to eat.

**xxx **

Later that night, Dick walked his blonde best friend back to her mother's apartment. She'd been right to say getting around Gotham was hard—by walking, by bus or by subway. Their excuse for doing so was to enjoy each other's company. Dick loved Artemis like a sister, so catching up with her had been easy. Almost easier than with Wally—which was a fact that he didn't mention. They trekked carefully around the subject of their ex-resident speedster, since what Artemis had told him about Wally rubbed him the wrong way. What she implied in the diner left him too flustered to bring the subject up again.

Instead, they focused on what Artemis planned on doing once she graduated college. (She was still going to Stanford, the blonde explained, but her and Wally's schedules had been so different anyway that it was unlikely they would see each other.) Once school was done and over with, Artemis planned on moving back to Gotham City, where she would work as a counselor for troubled teens in a rehabilitation center. She had a minor in nursing and physical therapy (for _very_ troubled teens) and planned on "whipping brats into shape;" making sure they didn't end up on a bad road ahead of them.

There was a glow in her eyes from the way she talked about it that mimicked her enthusiasm back on the field. Once Artemis confessed her interest, Dick smiled and gave his seal of approval. She kissed him on the cheek, punched him in the arm, threatened to do it again if he blamed himself 'one more time' about Wally and her breakup, and left to meet her mother.

Dick laughed, promising that he would ease up on himself before walking the streets back to the zeta-beam port. He debated dropping by the mansion, knowing Alfred would feel obliged to make him milk and cookies like a doting grandfather, but decided against it.

Literally right before he entered the phone booth, Wally texted him. **'Wanna play basketball?' **

Blue eyes inspected the message for a whole minute before he hit the _Call_ button.

"_Hello?"_

"It's five in the morning." Dick arched an eyebrow.

"_It's only two over here. On a Friday._" In the background, he could hear a ball bouncing and—a crash, a curse, and Brucely crying for cover in the background. Dick stifled a laughter. _"C'mon! I'm bored, you never sleep, and I have a score to settle._"

"You mean the one where I handed your ass to you five games in a row?" Like, when he was fifteen?

"_Yeah. That one. Call it a New Year's resolution._"

"It's October."

"_Dude—you gonna come over or what?" _

Rolling his eyes, Dick checked the clock on his phone. He probably wasn't going to get any sleep anyway. Heaving a heavy sigh, he entered the phone booth and the coordinates. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

Thusly as promised ten minutes later, Dick found himself walking the streets of Palo Alto to meet his best friend. Wally was seated at the top of his staircase, a grin spread across his lips and the ball tucked under his hands. The redhead stood to his feet and dangled over the railing.

"_Slowest Boy Wonder Alive," _he declared.

"Sorry not all of us have super speed," Dick retorted. "Or in your case, patience."

"Yeah," a smile spread across Wally's face—strange, without any real emotion. He hopped down the steps three at a time with Brucely lagging after him and landed at his feet right next to the teen. "Too bad not all of us have it."

Hm. Dick crossed his arms and scrutinized his best friend. Wally had dressed up in a pair of basket ball shorts, with bright red-and-yellow Adidas and a sweatshirt for the night. He looked as eager as a little kid, which did nothing more than make mirth tingle behind Dick's lips.

"Sorry I haven't been able to get back to you all week," Wally said, interrupting his thoughts. His eagerness melted easily into guilt, red eyebrows pinching together. He scratched his head, running a hand through red hair and grimaced. "It's been…crazy. Trying to figure out this living situation. Plus Bart's been over just about every day. The Fam's worried."

"That's what you told me," Dick pointed out. But it was nicer to hear from the redhead's mouth than over text message. Relief swelled in his chest.

"Yeah. But." Wally shrugged. He rocked between his feet before throwing the ball in Dick's direction. The old Boy Wonder caught it without flinching, and was met with a shy smile. "We have a good thing going on. I've kinda been wanting to see you all week."

Oh. Dick blinked in surprise and looked his best friend over, stunned.

"What's the matter?" Wally took very little time to recover and find a jibe. He laughed softly and pivoted on his feet to change sides on the acrobat.

"Nothing," Dick said immediately, and he threw the ball back in the redhead's direction. There was a soft _'oof_', but overall, the guy only grinned. Dick's lips contorted matter-of-factly and he crossed his arms. "You just don't write, you don't call. I was beginning to think I was a one night stand."

"'_One Night Stand_'? Criminy." Wally laughed so hard that he snorted, then jabbed his best friend in the arm. "You must have been _bad_, if I didn't bother to call you back."

"I could say the same for you, _Fastest Teen Alive._"

"Hey!"

"_Hahaha._" Dick trembled with hilarity, arms tight around his stomach. His shoulders shook as he crooned and he gestured to the hoop that had been installed over Wally's garage. "Same wager as last time?"

"Loser gives the other one a blowjob?"

"Was that _really_ it?" Dick choked on another chortle as the speedster in front of him whistled good-naturedly.

Wally shrugged and bounced the ball in his hand. "Always said that to freak Arty out, remember? Then substituted with, _'Loser carries the other around the cave for a week._'"

Right. "You always lost."

"I did no—"

Dick swiped the ball out of the old speedster's hand and snickered under his breath at the immediate shout of protest. He ran the length of the small driveway with a naughty grin at his face and dribbled the ball as he did so. He felt Wally press against him from behind, arms wide to block his shot. "Rules?"

"Three pointers if you shoot behind the trash can," Wally informed. "Two if anything closer."

"Good to know." And then he shot the ball, landing it perfectly in the basketball net with a _SWOOP! _Brucely barked happily from the sidelines, tail wagging enthusiastically as he did so. Turning around, Dick split into a smug grin next to Wally's disapproving pout. He made a gesture to the hoop. "Two-pointer."

"Very funny." Wally's eyes narrowed and he smirked. "I'll two-pointer _you._"

"That doesn't even make _sense_, Kid—" The word '_Idiot'_ hung on Dick's tongue, but the moment he annunciated, he had to stop himself. Dick's face straightened and he looked to Wally to see what reaction it gauged.

To his surprise, the old speedster's lip quirked wider—maybe satisfied. They were falling into old habits. He picked up the ball as it rolled to his feet and threw it through the hoop. "Two-pointer, Bird Boy."

Heh. "_Game on._"

The last time they'd had a basketball game, Dick was at least half the size he was now. Back then he'd used his height swiftly—ducking and bobbing. Just because Kid Flash was fast on his feet back then didn't mean he was graceful—which resulted in a lot of Wally landing on his face and the first Robin jumping on his fallen friend's ass to slam dunk. In present time, he was able to shift his weight and confuse the speedster. There were benefits to having a competitor that had been off the roster for three years.

Well—some. Wally leaped high enough to block off Dick's jump shots. His arms were long, making landing three-pointers easy. (He'd also stopped circling Dick, knowing that it would only result in the teen tripping him and stealing the ball for himself.) Halfway through the game, Brucely got excited and joined them on the driveway. Dick found himself playing two against one after Wally threw the ball and his loyal dog nosed it to the hoop.

The teen had just stolen the ball and feigned left before shooting to the right. He heard Wally cry out in protest—then toppled over onto Dick. Dick fell flat on his face on the driveway with a, "_Whoa!_" and felt Wally collapse on top of him.

Ow.

A groan left the teen's lips, and he opened is eyes as he felt Brucely lick his face. The dog yipped in amusement, tail wagging as Dick looked at him. The redhead in question had his arms on either side of the brunet, head fused with his back. "Seriously, Wally?"

"Oops," was Wally's reply. Then—"Ow—ow, ow, _ow—_I think your _back_ gave me a concussion."

Rolling his eyes, Dick turned over beneath his friend and looked up drolly. What he saw was a hand curled against the redhead's temples, and the other one molded around Wally's crooked nose. "You can't keep on your own two feet for longer than a few seconds, can you?"

"Now you're just hurting my feelings." Wally groaned again and scowled with exaggeration. _Jeez. Drama Queen. _"What the hell do you _pack_ in that back, a brick wall?"

"Like you haven't run into enough of those." Hearing the old speedster snort under his hands, the teen couldn't help a laugh. He pushed Wally back and brushed the pair of hands away from his best friend's face. "Here. Let me see it."

"Only if you apologize."

"For _what_?"

Wally moved his shoulders in substitute for his arms. His eyes widened comically and eyebrows wriggled on his face in upset. "For the brick wall comment."

"I'm going to hurt you."

The redhead went cross-eyed and gestured to his nose.

"Fine. Whatever." Dick crooned softly under his breath and cupped Wally's face between his fingers. He pressed his lips together carefully, eyes scrutinizing his best friend's complexion.

Freckles. They'd faded over the years, but as close as he was, Dick could see the faintest freckles beneath his best friend's eyes and dancing on the bridge of Wally's crooked nose. Beneath the streetlights, Wally's eyes were dark, but still visibly—_amazingly_ green. With…little specks in them. Eye freckles. The pigment in Wally's hair had dulled slightly over the years, but he still stuck out easily. (It was a given, really—considering the ketchup red and mustard yellow suit he'd worn for so many years.)

For a moment, Dick actually forgot what he was doing. Sweat from earlier was damp on his finger pads, glistening from a rough game. He was sure he looked no better, with bangs that were matted to his forehead and a bead of sweat he could feel trickling down his face. Biting the inside of his mouth, he pushed the red locks out of his old speedster's face and inspected the so-called 'bump.' Which, as he speculated, wasn't there.

"You're such a baby." Dick slapped Wally on both cheeks.

"_Ow!_"

"Point." Again, he could only roll his eyes as Wally whined before doubling over in laughter. He pushed off, staring at the man who sat parallel to him patiently as he waited for the redhead to stop. Wally's voice cracked higher—and he fell with his back to the ground with a content sigh. The ex-speedster held out his arms and legs like he was making a snow angel. "Any reason why you're in a better mood than the hyenas from the Lion King?"

Those green orbs looked to him, bottom lip twitching in good nature. Wally's hands curled behind his head and for some reason, he beamed with a smile. One that Dick hadn't seen on his face since they were kids. "Dunno. Bart came over, we hung out a bit. Then I kicked him out, of course. And then I was like—_I wanna play basketball. _I figured you'd be the only one _insane_ enough to still be awake at this time of night."

"I'm flattered." Really. Though Wally's reasoning seemed odd, given how heartbroken he'd been the week before. This type of optimism was surprising, even for Wally.

The said man looked back to him, eyes narrowed and brow curled. His lips formed a smirk and he nudged Dick with his league. "So what _were_ you doing up at five in the morning? Hot case?"

"Hung out with Artemis."

Instantly the smile evaporated from the redhead's demeanor. Wally blinked, pushing off the ground into a sitting position and eyed him in surprise. His lips tightened into a frown, hands curling at the ground. "Is she doing well?"

"She loves it." Dick didn't flinch. He reached over to pat Brucely on the head, who followed by resting across his lap. "She missed being a hero again and now she's got it."

"Oh." Wally's hands settled between his knees like a child. He fell silent, and for some reason it felt as though everything that happened prior to that moment hadn't existed. All the enthusiasm disappeared from Wally's eyes and his smile faded. "That's good."

He slunk back to depression. Dick blinked, watching the scene unfold before him and felt his chest compress. He bit the inside of his mouth and looked away toward the empty streets. It had to be at least four in the morning now, after two hours of harassing each other while they played basketball. He…wasn't quite sure why he wasn't prepared for Wally to fall into a slump again.

"I don't blame you," Wally said finally—the first thing, before returning to his ministrations. He raised a hand and waved it gently. "I'm over that."

"She told me not to put myself in the middle of it."

"Yeah." Shrug. The redhead closed his eyes and sighed—halfheartedly as enthusiastic as he'd been throughout their game and gloomy. "She's like that."

Dick frowned, taking in the reaction carefully. He watched the rise and fall of Wally's chest as the redhead quietly dwelled in his own mind, and the grimness that overshadowed Wally's orbs. Scraping fingers against the ground, he crawled over to the other man. "Do you…need to talk about it?"

Wally pressed his forearm to his eyes and shook his head. He was without a word in the following moments, lips tight and dried together. Dick's fingers tapped the ground nervously.

"_Wally._"

"It's not about her."

Dick stared at his best friend cautiously.

"I didn't want to be Wally West for one night." The other man halted. He peered from his arm, throat clogged and unclear, and looked straight to the old Boy Wonder. His gaze was mournful—frustrated, even. Sighing brusquely, he looked up, and a bit of hope shined beneath his frustration. "Stay with me?"

Reaching out, he tapped a nimble hand on Dick's arm, and his eyebrows meshed together in a quiet plea.

The dark-haired teen stared down at the knuckles that brushed his wrist. They were cold to the touch, with flesh that was in the moonlight. Turning his head back, he scrutinized Wally's face once more. Beneath all of the enthusiasm was the sadness of heartbreak. The adrenaline from earlier burned away eons ago into fear.

"Always." Dick pushed to his feet and pulled Wally off the ground with him.

The redhead's grip on his hand was numb—almost lifeless, even. Green eyes stared carefully at their interlaced hands, gaze flat and not a smile to his face. Again, Wally was quiet with whatever thought appeared to be in his head. Dick moved to unlock their fingers, feeling his chest tighten and heart ache, but Wally beat him to it.

Backing away, Wally started the path up the stairs and offered a smile in his direction. "C'mon. I'm hungry."

He picked up the ball and walked into his house. Slowly.

**xxx**

**Author's Note: **

Thank you so much for the reviews so far! We've got a long story ahead of us, so I hope I'm keeping you interested. (:


	4. Boys Night, Boy' Kisses, Boy Hugs, Shot

**Chapter 4: **Boy's Night, Boy's Kisses, Boy Hugs, Shot

_The mission meant taking down a drug dealer. Someone had gotten a hold of the Joker's Laugh Gas somewhere in Gotham City and meddled with the properties to turn it into a laugh hallucinogen. Its victims experienced an intense spout of laughter as they hallucinated, ranging from a minute to a few hours. Longer exposure meant death through asphyxiation—and those who survived exposure experienced hallucinations until they were diagnosed as clinically insane. However, there were suspicions that in one short month, people had gathered and formed a culture out of it—Joker Juice. Their job: find it, find the guy who changed the properties, and destroy all the contents. _

_First job: Finding it. Which led them to the club they were in now. _

_The music thrummed loudly, causing seats to tremble and the flesh on Kid Flash's arms to pulse. Red lights, yellow lights, purple lights, blue lights, green lights—every color of the rainbow and their lovechild orbited the dance floor and illuminated the several teenagers who seemed oblivious. All boys. The 'bartender' who'd given a bewildered Kaldur his glass of water left a hand lingering longer than needed. Not just long in speedster terms, either—just, long. A pair of teens no older than Rob had passed by and given a confused Conner sex eyes. _

_On the neon green whiteboard right above the bartender's head had Guy's Night Out! in neatly written scripture. _

_Wait a minute. _

_'Are we in a gay club?!' Wally shouted loudly through the telepathic link. Next to him, his three (male) team members winced from the unexpected (__**loud**__) intrusion. In the back of his head, he could hear Artemis mind-cackling—cutting off and coming back as she probably did so aloud. Kid Flash twitched, letting the situation set in. "Oh my god—mmmMMPHH!"_

_"Quiet, Kid Stupid." Robin slapped a hand over the redhead's mouth, gaze firm on the group of guys in the middle of the room. He'd changed out his sunglasses in favor of a pair of neon pink shutter shades. His usual black hair had been "bleached" blonde for the occasion, adorned with Hello Kitty clips, and usual civvies was replaced with a form-fitting black muscle shirt and neon blue pants. On his arm in black sharpie were three words: 'Love Me Tender.' _

_When Artemis had clipped the fake earring on him, Wally hadn't thought twice about it before Rob dragged him off with the rest of the guys. She looked at him with amusement, but now he knew __**why**__. And he was going to kill her. _

_Before Kid Flash had the chance to send violent thoughts her way, Aqualad placed a hand on his shoulder, a stern look visible across his face. 'We are here to find the hoodlum who is distributing Joker Juice to adolescents. We __**cannot**__ compromise our position. We'll go forward with the plan.' _

_'Plan?' The redhead rebuffed. Even in his head, his voice had cracked in disbelief. 'Where was I for this plan?' _

_"Eating a banana," Robin said aloud. He latched onto the speedster's arm and dragged him away, the amusement visible in his voice. "We decided you were already doing your part of the job. Hahaha…" _

_Ugh. Wally's head spun, watching as Rob moved easily in his ugly fashion statement for pants. And the blond hair. And the hot pinkglasses. This was looking way too natural for him and—"Hey. __**You**__ were the one who gave me the banana!" _

_"You just make it too easy." An evil little grin spread across his face. Oh __**my**__ god. Before he had the chance to rebuttal, Robin yanked him to the center of the dance floor and strapped one of Wally's hands firmly to his back. "Now shut up and dance with me before you blow our cover." _

_"Dude—"_

_'Mind Link.' _

_'—you and your ass tight neon pants are so in trouble when we're done with this!' From the far distance, Wally could hear his girlfriend break into hysterics again, while Rob only smirked. Yeah. Totally going down after all of this. The threat may have sounded better had not Rob began swinging his hips to the DJ's Top 40. He suppressed the irritation bubbling in his head and reverted back to mission mode. Despite the momentary lapse of shock (and mental notes to wring his best friend's neck over this) they still had something at hand to accomplish. _

_Which…involved a lot of dirty dance moves that Wally wasn't quite sure Dick actually knew. He stifled a laugh—and a gawk, as the fourteen-year-old danced with him. Robin gripped his shoulder tightly and brought him close. _

_'In position,' the Boy Wonder announced. _

_'They are watching you,' Kaldur confirmed. Wherever he was. Being on the dance floor blinded the pair from their team. _

_Conner's growl of discontent registered next. 'They're near. I can smell them.' _

_'For what?' Wally asked incredulously. He eeped when he felt a hand squeeze his ass—and at the moment, it wasn't even Rob's. He felt the said teen's hands grip both sides of him tightly, with an uncharacteristic look of exasperation that glowed blatantly under neon lights. _

_'You're too tense,' Robin scolded. 'You're going to blow our cover if you don't __**loosen up.' **_

_'Okay, okay.' Wally sucked in a breath and relaxed his shoulders. He stood up straighter as he felt Robin's hands roam his back in a way he knew particularly well. Even when the redhead was ready to melt into cataclysmic hysterics, Rob was trying to calm him down. Kid Flash danced as a remix of What Makes You Beautiful stirred on the stereo. There were way too many people singing to this. And who knew the lyrics. Wally himself included. (Not singing—just. Humming under his breath and slowly having a breakdown.) _

_Robin clung to the front of the redhead's shirt, wiggling his hips and doing footwork that made the redhead dizzy. Even under the musk of sweat and deafening laughter, he could pick up the scent of the Boy Wonder's body spray—or, lotion, or…well, his skin was smooth… _

_'Sweet Pea.' _

_Robin cocked his head, looking up into the taller teen's eyes with an eyebrow arched high in the air. He stopped dancing for a moment, blue eyes narrowed beneath the thin disguise and lip curled in amusement. 'What?' _

_A flush traveled up from the back of Wally's neck, blending with the purple light on his cheeks. He cursed Artemis for ever bringing him to Bath & Bodyworks. 'Uh…the lotion you're wearing.' God, what he would have given to wipe the shit-eating grin off of Dick's face. He could hear their blonde archer getting into another fit of laughter yet again—and this time, both Miss M and Zatanna were contributing. _

_'It's Zee's.' Okay, wow. Something funny must have been in that comment, because Rob was totally giving him an even shittier-eating grin. If…that was a real word. Robin cupped his face, and Kid Flash suddenly became very aware that there wasn't any space between them. _

_Green eyes widened in shock, a disgruntled sound shaking from the back of the teen's throat as Robin brought him down to his height. Perfectly manicured, rainbow fingernails stretched his face out until Wally felt like a wad of silly putty. "Uh?" _

_Robin's unfazed party-smile remained across his face. 'Keep. Calm.' _

_Uh. 'Wh—?' Rob moved to kiss him. Wally forced back a sound of surprise as he felt the said teen (violently) smash one of his TOMs onto his foot, and fell back by placing his hands awkwardly on Rob's hips. Okay, weird. 'Pretend he's Artemis, pretend he's Artemis—__**wow**__ Artemis can't do that—' He heard a guffaw, which was quickly forgotten when Dick moved one of Wally's hands to his ass. Which was almost forgotten when Dick forced his tongue into the speedster's mouth. _

_Jesus Christ. _

_'Don't panic.' Dick repeated again, which was strangely strategic given what they were doing. His voice was strict, steering the both of them. Rob was still rolling his hips to the music, fingers padding the sweaty flesh on the back of his neck in effort to soothe him, so Wally had little say in the matter. _

_He kissed back, knowing that if he wimped out that the team (and Batman) would have his head for compromising the mission. Robin's lips were surprisingly soft beneath his, with the scent of Sweet Pea swelling in Wally's nostrils. As a courtesy, Dick's kissing techniques had mellowed out—probably for his sake, so Wally felt more comfortable. His own fingers rubbed against the contour of the boy's cheek, bare flesh touching smooth skin. _

_There was something comfortable about this. _

_They hadn't had time to hang out with each other since Artemis and he, and Dick and Zatanna had started dating. Maybe that was why Rob seemed so enthusiastic about the mission. Wally, too, in the faintest corner of his mind remembering something about Kaldur pairing them together. What he wouldn't give to hang with his best friend for a day, he thought. _

_Er, well. Not like this. He hadn't thought about this in a while. Hadn't had to. _

_Yet he removed his fingers from where they groped Robin's ass, carefully thumbing either side of the Boy Wonder's abdomen. All of those nights before the mission, before Artemis—hell, before the team sunk back in his mind, with the forgotten thought, __**What I wouldn't give to kiss Dick Grayson, **__entered his mind and he took it with its usual grain of salt. When they parted, Wally pressed his forehead into the crook of Robin's neck to hide his face and felt hands comb through his hair. Dick's pulse against his skin and the soft breathy snickers against his ear. _

_The song ended promptly after, blending into the Cupid Shuffle. Robin's hands coiled into his shirt, forcing Wally to look up to the boyish, hesitant smirk across his lips. Break of character, with that freaky BatBoy showing through. _

_'We are so not doing that again,' Wally declared. That only made Rob's grin widen. Totally appropriate with the Hello Kitty clips. _

_'Doing…what again?' He could hear Megan ask in confusion. Right—telepathy, not exactly television. _

_'They're coming,' Kaldur announced. Wally almost forgot they were there. _

_Robin turned his head, provoking Wally to do the same. He moved a hand to the teen's waist, hand curling tightly at the Boy Wonder side as 'they' finally came. Two boys; one that looked about Rob's age and another that had to be a college. The younger boy wore wayferer glasses, with hair that had been obviously dyed a hardy shade of red and rainbow colored zany bands that climbed up his forearms that matched his bright suspenders. The elder teen looked classier, wearing a slick shirt and a pair of pants that looked like they belonged in Rob's closet right next to his skinny jeans. _

_"Quite a show you put on out there," said the older teen. His gaze narrowed to Rob, making Wally grip his friend tighter. "You do that just for him?" _

_Suddenly the younger teen giggled—fits of laughter bubbling from him that made Robin actually fall into his grip, and the hair on Wally's neck stand erect. The speedster looked toward Rainbow Dude's direction and bit the inside of his mouth. _

_"Depends on my inventory," Rob responded, and Wally choked—hearing his best friend's under-cover Brooklyn accent in full swing. The teen arched an eyebrow—like the way the guy would do with Wally, in a, 'I'm about to screw you over' kind of way, without the 'you-over' attached to it. "Care to check it out?" _

_Whoa. Wait a minute. "Robin—" He froze. So did College Dude. _

_"Your name's Robin?" That was not a nice smile on his face. _

_Yet there was Rob, who looked numb to what Kid Flash had just called him. Instead, the Boy Wonder shrugged his shoulders like, 'What the hell, I'll go with it' and strutted toward College Dude. His fingers trailed across College Dude's wide chest and shirked him away. "Let's see what else you can find about me." _

_It left Wally with the giggling Rainbow Guy. He watched in complete stun as Robin put in the effort to drag College Dude into the furthest corner of the dance floor. 'What the hell?' he demanded, and got no answer. Through the link, he could hear the confused questions from all three girls who had been instructed to stakeout outside the club, and Kaldur's effort to calm him. Not. Astrous. _

_Plus, now Rainbow Guy was poking him. Wally internally-loudly pointed out how he hated being pok—"Is that shirt right?" _

_"Bwuh?" Wally looked down to said Rainbow Guy—who let out a cackle that made his ears bleed. _

_"'Ten out of Ten. Would Bang'…pfftthahahahaaa…" Rainbow Guy stretched out Wally's shirt, pointing to the words clearly. His head swayed back and forth, and he wobbled onto an impatient Wally. _

_"Oh-kay. Someone's definitely high." Wally caught the boy before Rainbow Guy could hit the ground and steadied both of them, still clearly upset. From the corner of his eyes he saw Robin push the hair and sweat out of his face, tossing his head back like he was on one of those sexy-lady shampoo commercials. College Creep's large hands were in places that they shouldn't have been, dragging Robin up against him and off the ground. _

_Then, Robin leaned over and murmured something in the man's ear. Whatever it was, College Guy lit up with content. Amongst the crowd they stopped dancing and one of College Guy's large hands dragged Rob out of the room and into the hall. _

_"Where are they going?" Wally turned back to Rainbow Druggie in his hands—who decided licking Wally's freckles was a must. "Ohmy—"_

_"Abel only shows the people he likes the good stuff. Guys—girls. Hahahahahahaa…." Rainbow Druggie latched onto the speedster, fingers hooking in Wally's belt loops and thumbs digging between the hem of Wally's jeans and his boxers. He suddenly looked less high and more direct. "Abel likes me a lot." _

_Uh. "Yeah, you're not my type." _

_'Kid.' From the corner of his eye, he saw Conner and Kaldur walk to the hallway that Robin had gone down only seconds ago. 'Coming?' _

_'Thank __**god, **__yes.' Shoving Rainbow Druggie off of him, Wally ushered toward his teammates without a second thought. He pushed through the crowd of people and met both boys. Kaldur looked nervous, Conner had a painfully annoying look on his face—neither too happy about the situation. _

_'Robin just turned vocal on,' Artemis informed. 'We can hear everything on the Bioship.' _

_'Excellent.' Kaldur nodded his head to both boys, eyes narrowing. 'Time to follow.' The hallway was empty compared to the room before that. There was a stairway that led them up to a different floor, where they heard an affirmative click of a door. _

_Kaldur, Conner, and Wally all looked to each other. They snuck up the staircase, passing two drunk couples that happened to smuggle beer into the under-18 club and another when Wally ushered both boys away from when he realized boy A was on his knees for boy B. _

_Three different doors: two rooms next to each other, and a double-doored room with the King of Hearts carved into the wood. Superboy pointed to it and confirmed he heard voices. _

_Once Wally and he both crouched over, Kaldur placed a hand on their shoulders, eying both boys cautiously. 'Restrain yourselves.' _

_Nodding, the redhead swallowed down the sick feeling broiling in his stomach. _

**_"Saw the way your friend looked," _**_Robin's voice fluttered through the comm.-link. __**"I want that." **_

**_"Fun, isn't it?" _**_College dude murmured. A cool feeling shot through Wally's back. He clutched the floor to restrain himself and bit the inside of his mouth. There were sounds—breathy ones, too close to the mic, and Wally could feel those fingers on his best friend's skin. _

_He bit on a knuckle. Superboy grabbed him by the shoulder, blue eyes looking to blue. 'No,' Conner glared, and Wally forced himself to nod. _

**_"You're lucky, little bird—" _**_Little—Kaldur's glare stopped Wally from bubbling with anger, though it was obvious even Aqualad and Superboy were hearing the situation in the wrong way. __**"Not very many people get to check out our inventory." **_

**_"And if I see something I like?" _**

**_"There's an entry fee." _**_There were kissing sounds. And Rob was just __**letting**__ it happen. _

**_"How much?" _**_Robin's voice fluttered through, soft and crooning. _

_A snapping sound. More people, from the looks of it. __**"A show. How about you let us see what's under all of those feathers? Baby Bird?" **_

_'Robin,' Zatanna's voice suddenly burst through all of them—and made Wally's brain freeze. The distress and discomfort could be heard clearly in her voice. Wally couldn't even imagine what the girls looked like in the ship right now. 'This would be a good time to come clean.' _

_Silence. _

_'Robin,' Wally inputted. 'Dude. Stop—now.' Still, not an answer. Wally's heart throbbed in his chest and he growled beneath his breath. _

**_"Only if you let me see the other assets I'm getting first." _**

**_"Sorry, babe. Doesn't work that way." _**

**_"Sorry. I didn't come to screw around." _**

**_"Hahahahahaha…" _**

**_"Uh—"_**

**_"One way or another, you're _****fucked****_, Baby Bird." _**

_Which was where Wally was going to snap and burst through the door to kick College Dude's ass—had not Superboy did it first, smashing the wooden entry with a fist and blowing all their covers. _

**xxx**

Wally woke up drenched in his own sweat. He could feel the thick layer of permeation glossing wet hair to his forehead and staining every fold of his body. Choking on his own breath, green eyes looked candidly to the dark ceiling above him and he trembled against the bed.

The feeling from his fingers to his elbow was gone.

Salty beads trickled into his mouth, pooling on the small indent above his lip. His limbs shook, lips tight together, and a sharp knife dug into his throat every time he suck in a breath. Pain. Focused on his shoulder joint and screaming in his ears. He stifled a sob and focused. _Focused_, trying to move separate digits of his fingers. Each rolled like needle points pushing against them, wrist almost non-existent.

He couldn't count how long it took him, until he could finally curl both hands into the blanket beneath his body. Green eyes squeezed shut like a wall, denying the tears as they accumulated beneath red eyelashes.

It took an eternity before he could finally breathe again. An icy cold towel pressed against his forehead, wiping away the misery of the hours gone by since he'd escaped consciousness. The heavy steps of feet creaked on the wooden floor, until Wally could feel a pile of clothes being set right next to him, and a bottle of water that was manually placed into his dead hand.

He pushed off the bed, leaving a musky imprint in the duvet as he did so, and stared at the small speedster that stood parallel to him. Like a scared child unsure of what to do. Swallowing the dryness in his throat hard, Wally unscrewed the bottle and poured all of the contents in his mouth.

Bart was quiet through all of it.

When the redhead was finally done, the young speedster reached out, uncurled the bottle from Wally's hand, and gripped it tight between his fingers.

"How long?" Wally's voice sounded strange, even to him.

Brown eyebrows furrowed together and Bart's entire body shook. "You were unconscious for six hours."

"Did you leave the house?"

"No." Bart's lip quivered at the other side of him, the plastic bottle shriveling in his hand. Hair dangled as he shook his head, and small hands palmed his own chest, to still its beating. "I-I wasn't sure if you'd wake up." His eyes glistened with wet tears.

_Sigh. _"C'mere, kid." Holding out his hand tentatively, Wally rotated it carefully, and it moved with very little feeling. Like one of Red Arrow's polyurethane foam had exploded in his joints.

Before he could protest, Bart crawled onto his lap and buried his face in Wally's shirt. Hands clawed into the back of him, refusing to let go in case Wally escaped again. The kid didn't cry. Wally learned quickly that Bart had grown numb with the world he'd been raised in. All he wanted was a physical embrace from a warm, living being that let him know there was someone else out there in the world.

"You smell bad," Bart whispered.

Wally admonished him. "I've been lying in a bed for _six hours_, Bee. The least you could have done was turn the AC on."

"Didn't leave your side." Though Bart tittered sadly, his soft laughs bubbling painfully in the redhead's ear. The brunet pulled back, large green eyes staring at his cousin's. He slid off Wally's lap, exited the room, and proceeded to Febreeze the entire house. Wally snorted—he couldn't have smelled _that_ bad.

Brucely entered the room, hopped onto the bed, and rested his head on Wally's knee. He whimpered softly and licked Wally's hand; demanding to be petted. A breathy chuckle left Wally's lips. Once Bart was done he reappeared, Febreeze bottle in hand, and looked down gruesomely in Wally's direction with a somber demeanor.

The elder (ex)speedster pretended not to notice. "Six hours isn't that bad."

"'Isn't bad'?" Bart's voice raised, uncharacteristically tight. He chucked the Febreeze bottle elsewhere and threw his arms up. "That's three hours longer than _yesterday_, Walls." Silence. Wally didn't have the energy to talk back. As a result, Bart sucked in a breath and began speed-pacing up and down the room. "We need to backtrack. Throwback! Maybe there's something in your past—maybe a _villain _or something—"

"That what, Bart? Went Mister Bad Touch on me as a kid?" Wally cut him off.

The teen looked back, eyebrows knitted together. An uncharacteristic scowl formed across his face, hands at his side. "I'm just _saying_." His voice dissipated, disturbingly quiet in the elder cousin's ears. "Maybe something hit you with a ray. And that's why things are messed up."

"Let's count how many rays I've been hit with over the years, kid." Eyes narrowing, Wally shook his head in an affirmative _'no.' _"Flash had me checked out at STAR Labs every time something like that happened, in case radiation came back to bite me in the ass. Security only got tighter when the team formed."

"Then—"

"Then _what_, Bart?" An exasperated sigh left Wally's lips and he matched Bart's irritated scowl. He pinched the bridge of his nose and raised his head, _tired. _"We've been at this for _ten days. _The calculations, the tests, the theories—none of them have _worked_ so far. Half of them you're too young to even _understand._"

That struck a nerve. Bart's jaw tightened. "I built a time machine, didn't I?"

"One that couldn't get you back, kid."

They stood at a standstill, eyes never leaving the other. Bart's stature had grown tense out of irritation and Wally's hand stayed tight in Brucely's fur. He didn't realize the dog was nibbling on his bad hand until he looked down.

Gaze shriveling, Wally shut his eyes. No. No fighting. Looking back up, he opened his arms wide and gestured half-heartedly for Bart to come closer. The speedster nodded softly and crawled onto the bed right next to his cousin. They hugged tightly, soft apologies muttered in the air.

"You really do smell," Bart murmured again.

A petty laugh left Wally's lips. "I'll shower it off."

"Okay." The brunet reached over his cousin's lap and hugged the crown of Brucely's head. Looking up, the dog welcomed the sudden sign of affection with a pleasant lick or two.

Wally watched, half a tired smile forming as the brunet made the attempt to cheer himself up. He watched in silence, as Bart felt the need to praise the dumb dog for doing absolutely nothing until the usual cheerful smile graced Bart's lips again.

"I need a break," Wally announced. Bart looked to him curiously. "A few days. And then we'll try it again."

"Okay." Nodding, the brunet stood to his feet. "Is Nightwing coming over later then?"

"If I can get him." The comment was met with a dismissive shrug, so Wally rolled his eyes. "So scram."

The brunet beamed angelically and nodded. "Scramming."

Despite what Bart promised, the teen stayed until the very last moment. He rushed around the house, cleaning everything in sight in order to make sure nothing was out of place. Wally called his best friend and voiced his request. He was promptly pressed to shower ("Seriously—you've got like this lingering _stench—" _"I swear, I will hurt you.") and clean up before Dick arrived.

Once the redhead was finally clean and dressed in the clothes that Bart had lain out for him, he was met with the sight of his mother's chicken pot pie sitting neatly at the dining table. Wally's eyes narrowed quaintly. The kid probably brought it over while he was in the bathroom.

Speaking of the kid, Bart wiped his hands on the old cooking apron Wally'd forgotten to throw out. One that said, _GENERAL HOTSTUFF. "_Your hand okay?"

Rotating his wrist, Wally raised it for his cousin to see. "Water helped loosen it up."

"It's…just your _hand_ though, right?" Bart bit his lip and ripped the apron off his person. Looking up, his eyes narrowed with concern.

"Some…shooting pains in my leg, too."

_"Wall._"

"Only when I push it," Wally continued before the younger speedster could jump at him. He glared at the boy, warning him before the kid said anything stupid and pushed the damp red hair out of his eyes. "It went away later. You know all of this, B. But that was the first spasm in two weeks. I shouldn't have one for a while."

Still, his cousin looked unconvinced. The redhead couldn't help the aggravation showing on his face.

"I'll be _fine_, Bart."

"Okay." Though, Bart looked anything but happy about the situation.

Ten minutes later, the younger speedster answered the door.

"Uh…Hi, Bart." Dick's tone drawled monotonously, with a slight ounce of hesitation.

"Hiya." _Zip. _Bart disappeared from the door and reappeared with his school backpack strapped over his arm. He shifted between his feet and looked over his shoulder with a reluctant (almost protective) smile in Wally's direction. "That's my cue to leave, isn't it?"

"Scram." Wally waved his hand.

"Bye, cuzzo! Bye Nightwing!"

"Bye—" _ZIP! _"—Bart. I…take it he does that a lot?"

"The kid's a showoff." Pushing off the couch, Wally couldn't help but roll his eyes. He didn't miss the look of concern or the way Bart had frowned at him right before leaving. It was the nagging feeling in his chest that reminded Wally that Bart was insistent on 'fixing him.' No doubt the kid was annoyed when Wally declared he needed a break. _But whatever. _

Dick was dressed in a charcoal v-neck, muscles fitted smoothly beneath the thin layer of cotton. His hair was tangled, probably from getting off patrol only moments ago. Wally couldn't help but double check to make sure the teen wasn't wearing neon blue skinny jeans.

"You look nice." He crossed his arms and smirked in amusement before reaching over the coffee table for his car keys.

"Thanks." Dick smirked back, mimicking the redhead's pose with twice the amusement and tilted his head just slightly to the side. "So what are we doing tonight?"

Hanging out with Dick had become a constant thing in the past few days. With school, his internship, and the experiments Wally had been trying out with Bart, along with how much time Dick put forth with the team, it was amazing they were even able to do so. The past three days were spent bonding over old memories (though, Wally had quickly cut Dick off when it steered too far down into his time as Kid Flash) and tossing around the same subjects they'd been doing since they met ("Where would they keep the zipper on the Sailor Scouts uniform?" "They'd take it off with magic, dude. That's how they got it on." "No way! What if it's like…make up remover?")

Wally would spend the time in class and his internship, spend ample hours with his cousin after Central City Middle School let out, and spend the nights raving with his best friend. There'd only been one night, to Wally's dismay, that the guy agreed to sleep over. Dick volunteered to crash on the couch and promised to leave promptly in the morning to complete his own errands.

Yet right now, Wally had Dick all to himself.

Biting the inside of his mouth, Wally tucked one hand in his pocket and brushed the tangled black knots out of the teen's hair. Blue eyes stared at him thoughtfully, the amusement shining in Dick's irises, and the redhead could only meet it with a shrug. "You wanna go clubbing?"

**xxx**

_Blush_ was an Under21 club that had opened up in Keystone City only six months prior to their visit. At first the name of it had been _REACH for the Stars_,in order to embrace the news and propaganda that had been going on at the time. Shortly after the invasion was been exposed to the public, the new club quickly went under renovations and reopened in a way to completely separate itself from controversy. Wally had mocked it over the summer one day when he visited the STAR Labs in Keystone City. By…himself. Laying low until he finally got that phone call and make sure everything ended at the summit.

But now, he had a friend to mock it with him. Per usual, the Top 40 and every remix plus their mother echoed through the long walls of the club and caused all of the bones in Wally's body to tremble. It hammered a cadence in his ears and caused him to grin from ear-to-ear. The dance floor was a large platform with light-up tiles and (the only thing kept after the renovations) star-shaped spotlights that searched the crowd for happy smiles. The bar was lit up with black lights, with both bartenders wearing glow-in-the-dark drawings and writing on their arms and t-shirts.

College kids laughed and danced—grinding and hollering to the beat of the music.

It was the cheesiest thing Wally had ever seen. _He loved it. _

Feet only inches away from leaping into the ocean of people, Wally didn't register Dick touching his arm until the same teen pulled him close with a disapproving frown. Dick's eyebrows furrowed together doubtfully. Over the music, he yelled, "You sure you want to do this?"

"It's been _two weeks_ now since Artemis and I have broken up, dude." Wally attempted to shake the grip off and turned around so his full body faced the dark-haired teen's. "I'm _done_ feeling sorry for myself! C'mon, it's time I move on and find a new girl, right?"

He attempted to move, but couldn't. Dick's hand was still on top of his wrist, and it hurt _so much_ that Wally couldn't actually feel it. Instead, blue eyes flickering with party lights and dusk narrowed and Dick's lips turned into a crooked grimace. "I gave up patrol tonight to come see you."

"Yeah! And I'm flattered." Wally tapped his heels eagerly into the ground and grinned.

"This is the third night that I've done that, Wally."

"And?" Wally raised his head questionably and was met with eyebrows that were pinched together. He blocked out the voice in his head that wanted to scold him for what he was doing, and gripped Dick's hand tight with his other hand. A smile adorned his face. "Sorry, sorry. C'mon—I'll meet a babe, you'll meet a babe. We'll compare at the end of the night and then you can go back to doing your freaky bat thing, alright?"

Wally forced himself to keep eye contact with the teen in front of him, who looked eager to be anywhere but where Dick was standing right now. His best friend's face twisted cautiously, and eyebrows knitted together. Dick nodded stiffly. "Oka—"

"C'mon!" Wally yanked the teen through the throng of hapless people. He tossed his head back joyously, letting a laugh explode out of his lips as a shitty _Jesse McCartney _track began. Wally fell into step with each lyric and let the soggy air fill his lungs. God, it was good to finally _breathe _again. Turning his head, he laughed.

His best friend looked back, a mordant smile across his face that clearly meant he wasn't having fun. Like, totally the opposite of fun. Dis-fun, and heavy on the dis.

"S'matter, Boy Wonder?" Wally pulled the teen close by the shoulder and grinned sly. "This different without your skinny jeans?"

At the mention of the godforsaken pants, Dick blinked. A smirk conjured on his face and he turned his head slightly for the redhead to get a better view of him. "Just…_seriously judging_ your dance moves."

"_Hah_," Wally snickered. He pressed up to his best friend with a grin. "I'm a perfect ten out of ten."

"Yeah. A _negative_ ten."

"Oh, you hurt me. Dude, loosen up a little." From the corner of his eye, a pretty girl caught Wally's attention. He curled both hands on either side of the old Boy Wonder, bringing him close until they were loosely skin-to-skin and jerked his head in that direction. "That girl over there's checking you out. See?"

"What's your point?"

_"Oh my god_ it's like you're thirteen again without the sex drive!" Wally shoved Dick roughly. "_Go_."

Even pushed against his will, the infamous Dick 'Grace'-son managed to look smooth and suave as he steadied himself before walking in the direction of the girl. He tossed a dirty look in Wally's direction over his shoulder and was met with feigned disinterest. Once his best friend started talking to the pretty lady in the sleek black dress, Wally focused on himself. He turned around and eventually found a—well, a _guy_, but a pretty hot looking one.

He'd been in a relationship with Artemis for five years, but that didn't mean he'd never been interested in dudes before. The guy had dark hair that curled at a widow's peak, and bright eyes that seemed lighter under the dance ornaments. He tapped Wally on the shoulder to get his attention and smirked.

Wally grinned back. Yeah, he could deal with this. "_Hiya._"

"Hi yourself," said the other man. He laughed softly, and that was the final kick the redhead needed to take all the weight off his shoulders.

From the corner of his vision, he saw Dick still preoccupied with the girl. No doubt it was going well—Boy Wonder was also _Boy Wonderful_ at getting everything to go his way. So Wally focused on the songs as they reeled loudly in the foreground and pressed up to the dude that was clearly interested in him. _Clearly. _

The guy felt the need to keep his fingers curled over Wally's dead arm to keep him in place. Arching an eyebrow, Wally only smirked—

—until he felt the familiar shooting pain up his leg.

Like a syringe the length of Wally's arm that stabbed straight into his Achilles tendon, pushed through the flesh of his leg until every bit of plastic was buried in the open wound, and dragged forcefully up his calf. Wally's eyes widened, the breath in his lungs abruptly depleting. _No. No, no, no, __**no. **_

He faltered in the next mix of rhythms and forced himself to clutch his dance partner for support. The ache shot up and pierced his chest. Nonononono—he—he_ had_ one of these already_—today_.

This was not happening.

"You…okay?" asked the guy—what was his name again? Steve…? J-Jace—Wally's hands clawed into the bare flesh of Steve-Jace's arms as another jolt shook him, and he choked. _This. Was. __**Not**__. Happening__**. **_

"Gottago," Wally murmured under his breath dizzily. His eyes searched the throng of partiers and only saw blobs of color. "Gottagetoutofhe—"

A gunshot.

Suddenly a girl's scream ripped through the music, so high that it made Wally's ears bleed amongst everything else. The music stopped, every living being freezing as the blood-curdling screech cut off every sound in existence.

One of the bartenders was slumped over the counter, head dangling off the edge of the guest end and blood spilling out of his abdomen. Someone else—who looked like _every other person in the room_ with light-up jewelry and gaudy clothes, held a gun to the other bartender's face.

"I'm only going to say this once." The man smirked. "Get the money out of the register. Everyone else? Get your fucking wallets out."

Several metal clicks echoed through the mob of dancers, intermingled with innocent civilians. Wally squinted, focusing long enough that he could make out Dick's face as it stared back at him, jaw tight in a scowl.

There was another scream—all from fearful citizens. Wally sucked in a breath and refused to cry out as he felt nails dig into his throbbing heart. The pain doubled back into his legs, making it hard to even keep on his feet. _Keep standing, West. Keep __**standing. **_

_This was not __**happening**__. _

"I said _get the money out of the fucking register!_"

Once there was another gunfire, Wally made a run for it.

**xxx**

**Author's Note: **

Glad you like it so far! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. (:


	5. Spasm, Family, Anger, Fight

**Chapter 5: **Spasm, Family, Anger, Fight

The burn hammered through the rest of Wally before he was out the door and in the hallway. He was lucky that as soon as the second gunfire exploded, masses of people jolted into hysteria and bustled for the exit. _Some __**fucking **__luck._ There was a sequence fire of three or more bullets in the air and screams of absolute _panic_ that made Wally want to kill himself. He needed to be in there. _Retirement or not_, he wasn't completely useless.

If it wasn't for the stupid _body shock. _

Wally toppled over a ficus before he could make it to the restroom. He cried out in pathetic pain, eyes squeezed shut despite himself and sunk teeth into the fingers of his dead hand until wet warmth filled his mouth. The sensation was like a bloody knife pumping through his veins, splicing all of his insides as energy crushed his lungs and collapsed his ribcage. An acute tingling blazed in the tips of his fingers and he lost the feeling in every part of his body.

Ten whole minutes, he lay with his back against the floor and stared at the ceiling. Wally choked on the saliva in his throat and withered away into nothingness. _Ten_ _long minutes _until he could move again, instead of passing out like he'd done so many times in the past.

Wally tapped his fingers with a steady rhythm in order to calm himself. _Breathe. _

_**Breathe. **_

Finally, it stopped. Wally lay limp against the cold floor, his eyes wide and stiff as they stared up into the ceiling and saliva dribbling at the side of his mouth. Taking in air was like breathing in thorns. His entire body quaked, and the shock registered in Wally's mind like a neutralizer.

It'd never happened like that before. Never two spasms in the same _week _let alone the same day. Never that short—never still leaving him conscious.

Wally closed his eyes and breathed in sharply, letting needles prickle at his lungs.

He thought back to the rest of that night—when he was still Kid Flash, Dick was still _Rob_, and how clubbing was less lethal.

**xxx**

_Whatever thugs were in there dispersed the moment Superboy crashed through the door. Kid Flash and Aqualad spared each other one look before bursting into the room themselves, with the girls' voices shouting in their heads for a play-by-play. What met them was a full bed, dressed in cheap and dirty sheets that made Wally sick to his stomach. Superboy flipped over a nearby table to scare the masses, with a scowl permanently pressed across his lips. _

_The first thing Wally did was look over to College Dude, who'd plucked short Robin off the ground and dangled him above the air. College Dude's eyes doubled in size and he turned over, swinging Rob as though he weighed nothing. "What the fuck is going on?!" _

"_Hahaha. You said you wanted a show, didn't you?" In that instance, Rob's voice deepened. He shimmied in College Dude's grip and kicked him harshly in the jaw. (Harsh enough to make Wally wince—he was ninety-percent sure it was now broken.) _

_Kid Flash darted across the room in search for the suitcase he'd heard click. He ducked when Superboy threw a punch at one of College Dude's many lackeys and practically tackled the titanium case to the ground when he found it. _

"_What the hell do you think you're doing?" Drug Minion Number One growled in the speedster's direction and lunged for him. _

_Druggy was important to remember. Not actually powerful enough to do damage. Wally skidded across the ground as Drug Minion Number One ran toward him and managed to trip the moron in the process. Wally jumped over a chair to dodge the second guy and landed next to Rob._

'_You okay?' Without even thinking, he placed a hand securely around the Boy Wonder's waist, to bring Dick closer to him and away from the damage. _

_Falling into their normal characters, Robin crossed his arms and said nothing. Instead, he took the case out of Wally's hand and…he was frowning. The, that-shouldn't-have-happened frown. _

"_Rob," Kid Flash voiced aloud, and he turned the younger teen so they were looking at each other. His voice strained with concern, eyebrows contorting together. "You're…okay, right?" _

_He had to hide the sigh of relief whenever Robin finally answered him. Even under his ridiculous guise, the guy's behavior made Wally's heart beat erratically. "There's more drug. If I had a little more time I would have been able to get it all." _

_What? _

"_Excuse you?" For a moment Kid Flash forgot what they were doing. His stature faltered and he stared at his best friend as though Rob had grown bat wings and was flying around like a unicorn. He dropped their current situation entirely—did Rob just say—? "Do you know what just __**happened**__ here—?"_

"_Kid. Robin." Kaldur cut both of them off with a scolding look. His water bearers had taken the form of a barrier to keep the druggies at bay. Electricity hissed along the surface of the constructs. All who was left was College Dude—who'd been thoroughly knocked out from Robin's deadly kick. "Have you acquired everything?" _

_Like Wally'd said earlier—druggies didn't exactly mean body-builder evil. _

_The said Boy Wonder spared Wally one more look—one that made the anger boil in the speedster harder. Robin dropped to the floor and clutched College Dude by the front of his shirt. One or two shakes, and College Dude stirred in fright. _

_He didn't look as handsome as before. Greasy hair stuck to the guy's forehead like a sweaty helmet, with veins that stuck out as rivulets in his thick net. Crimson red drowned out everything else in the man's eyes, and his teeth turned into fangs as he scowled. He looked straight to Robin and again, Kid Flash placed a hand on the Boy Wonder protectively. _

_But this time, Robin jerked away. What the hell. _

"_Who are you?" College Dude snapped. _

"_Where's the rest of it?" Robin's grip tightened on the man's shirt. _

"_Excuse you?" And—duh—the idiot's eyes narrowed to the briefcase perched next to the young teen's leg, then widened with realization. "You have it! You have the suitcase!" _

"_Hah. Yeah, and I know that probably isn't your only stash. You're a professional at this." Anger radiated beneath Robin's voice. Somehow, Wally knew immediately that it wasn't all directed at college dude. Not entirely. If anything, for some shit crazy reason, Rob was definitely angry at his own team for barging in. _

_College Dude fidgeted out of fear as Robin moved his hand, but the upset remained across his face. "I'm not telling you." _

"_Dude." Wally intervened before Robin could do anything else. He pulled Robin back from the scene, knowing full well College Dude would cower in fear. "Let's see here. You've got Superboy here, an Atlantean that can drown you in water conduits, this little freaky Bat here that knows how to dislocate your shoulder in like a hundred twenty different ways, aaaaand…me." _

"_A ginger who can run really fast." College Dude's eyes narrowed at him. "How threatening." _

_Wally glared back. "I'll tell you now—"_

_Rob held out a hand to restrain him. Beneath the shades, he looked to the redhead from the corner of his eye with a heavy-set jaw and jerked his head. 'Find it.' _

'_What? Oh.' Nodding, the speedster pulled back and turned to Aqualad for confirmation. Their leader nodded tersely, with Superboys jaw tightening. _

_The guy probably wanted to get a punch in for College Dude being so stupid. _

_With agreement from everyone in the room, Kid Flash hurriedly sifted through drawers and under the bed. He burst through Aqualad's barrier and padded down every bad guy. Nada. The redhead almost gave up, until he ran over a part of the ground that squeaked as he stepped foot upon it. A loose plank. Steering to a halt, he looked over to his three team members and nodded. 'I think this is it.' _

_The plank that came loose allowed him to yank off other bits, until a 4x4 area was uncovered. Wally grimaced uneasily. Sure enough, three more suitcases the same length as the one in Robin's grasp were visible, with tanks marked with the Joker's Insignia. He ripped them out of place and stacked them neatly beside the team's powerhouses before speeding back to College Dude. _

_Who, didn't look happy in the very least. _

_Wally couldn't help but feel smug over the fact. "Any questions?" _

_Glare. Aw—College Dude __**did**__ care about him. "No." _

_College Dude and the rest of his minions were promptly taken into custody and arrested. Party-goers were instructed to leave the premises and informed the club would be searched thoroughly for leftover miscellany of the drug or any more tanks of Joker's laugh gas. They'd changed out of their guises back into uniform (save Robin, whose hair was still temporarily bleached) and rummaged the room. Once Zatanna caught sight of her boyfriend, she threw her arms around his shoulders and muttered in the secret language they'd made up since they started dating. For the first time since the break-in by Superboy, the shorter teen smiled, kissed her gingerly on the cheek, and assured her he was okay. _

_They held hands the entire time they scavenged for sketchy objects in the club. Artemis had to commandeer the speedster away so they could look up in the attic; in case there was something they were missed. _

_Once everything was gathered and brought back to the ship, they returned to Mount Justice to debrief with Batman. Again, Zatanna continued giving the Boy Wonder concerned looks. Robin kept a cool mask throughout Kaldur's wording—which did nothing more than make Wally angry. _

_As soon as the debriefing was over, Wally decided to ask about it. _

"_What the hell is wrong with you?" Well—maybe ten minutes before the debriefing was over. When Kaldur cryptically grazed over details of how they ended up in the room. _

_Wally's question was met with surprise and silence from all parties standing on the main-op platform. _

_Robin looked up from the various holographic panels, an eyebrow raised beneath his mask. He held his hands out in confusion, and a look that said, 'don't-do-this-here, dude.' "Uh…what?" _

"_We're seriously not going to talk about how you were nearly molested by that college dude back there?" Everyone around them visibly cringed. Wally bit back the stemming argument—'right after we kissed?' He puffed his chest out and marched over to jab a finger at the younger teen's chest. "Oh, but that's not what you're pissed about—"_

"_Hey—" Rob's face twisted, immediately going over the words in his head, and he frowned. _

"—_you're pissed that Supey barged into the room too soon, am I right?" Wally's scowl worsened. "You were going to drag that out as long as you needed, no matter how dangerous it got, weren't you?" _

_Twitch. Robin's hands curled into fists at his sides and his demeanor scrunched with irritation. "Hahaha. Don't tell me you thought I was going to let him screw me over." _

"_No. Just screw you before you got what we came for." _

_Oh, if looks could kill. Had Wally been surfing the room for their team's reaction, he would have been greeted with dumbfounded looks. He'd kept the anger bottled in his chest since they caught the college kids red-handed, but was now at the point he was shouting everything that came to mind. And the key thought here was that he was freaking angry. _

_A heartbeat passed between them. Robin looked uninterested in defending himself, and in a last effort, Wally turned to Batman to gauge a reaction. _

_Batman wasn't as easy to read. He turned to his protégé in silence, head shifting just slightly. "Robin?" _

"_He lifted me up and I broke his jaw." Shrug. The younger teen jerked his head in Wally's direction, almost accusing, before turning back to his partner in confirmation. "N.B.D. No big deal. Aqualad, Superboy, and Kid Idiot here saw it themselves. Batman, I'm fine." _

"_Very well then." The Dark Knight nodded curtly. "We'll scan for injuries when we get back to Gotham. You give me no reason to doubt you." _

_No way. __**No way**__, Bats was giving the affirmative for what just happened here. Not only that, but Robin then turned to Wally, hands raised in the air as if saying, 'that enough for you?' The permanent frown across Wally's lips was enough to make the head honcho sigh in exasperation. _

"_I presume that's all that is needed for all the debriefing." Batman turned his footing toward the zeta-beam exit and looked at Aqualad once more for confirmation. Their leader nodded. "Clearly this is a dispute that needs to be settled amongst you all. I can assure you that Robin has been trained to the best of his ability to handle any given situation. However…" _

_He trailed off, scanning the clearly not-turbed look settled in on the resident speedster's face, and—given it was Wally, probably rolling his eyes under the cowl. _

_Batman grunted before leaving. "Try not to kill each other." _

"_Seriously?" Robin's stature broke for an instant, taking a step toward his mentor. "Batman—" _

"_**Recognized: 02 - Batman." **_

_Great. Seeing as their only order was 'not to kill each other,' Wally started things off by throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. He stood parallel to the Boy Wonder, with his chest puffed out and his eyes bugged like a cartoon character's. It might have been funny if he wasn't so angry. "Okay—I get the incredibly gaudy outfit to make you stand out in the crowd. I even understand the Hello Kitty hairclips as part of the disguise. You? In a room by yourself with eleven people? Yeah. You're a badass, man. __**I get it**__." _

"_Then why," Robin said calmly, gritted his teeth, "are we having this argument?" _

"_Because your stupid reaction to this entire thing is—'you should have waited longer, I've got this'!" Wally's face flared red with anger and he gripped the teen by his tunic. "Admit it. You've been pissed this entire ride back to the cave because we interfered." _

_Robin pushed him off. "I would have been able to get what we needed by myself, Wally. Dude. Why are you so __**bent**__ on this?" His lips stretched into a crooked frown and he mimicked Wally's hand gestures with frustration. "We got the bad guy. We got the drug that we came for. Sure, I was pissed for like two seconds, but you're the one that won't shut up about it right now." _

"_ROB__**. YOU COULD HAVE BEEN RAPED!**__" The words left a disgusting taste on the speedster's mouth. Wally slapped the shorter teen's hands out of the way and gripped him tightly by the shoulders. He shook his best friend like it would finally make sanity sink in. "And now you're looking at it like it's the team's fault for running interference. Supey burst through the door for a reason, man. And so help me, I was about to do it myself!" _

"_Nothing. Happened." Robin gripped both of Wally's hands tightly and glared. His jaw was tight with anger, face even splashed with red from the fury Wally felt himself. "We got the drug. We arrested the bad guy. KF, you're taking something I said to you in passing and making me sound like I'm—"_

"_A kid?" Wally cut him off. _

_It was met with crossed arms and a glower. _

_Gah. "Gah! I can't deal with you!" Wally clawed red hair between his fingers and paced across the circular platform. He tossed his head up to the sky and screamed into the air with frustration. ___

_Artemis pulled him out of the situation like an owner taking hold of its fitful cat. He was manhandled, pulled to the side with a hand wrapped tightly around his in a death grip. She tossed a look in Robin's direction as Zatanna clearly did the same to her boyfriend. _

"_Hey—!" The archer also slapped a hand on Wally's mouth before he could say anything more. _

"_Aside from Wally's outburst," she started with an irritated grumble, "he has a point." _

_The fact that Robin was trying to remain incredibly calm about the situation while Wally was close to having a mental breakdown only irked him more. The Boy Wonder rolled his head with exasperation and tilted it to the side. He looked back, expecting an explanation. _

"_Megan, Zee, and me were on the ship. All we could hear were voices from the transmission that was going on." Artemis pushed Wally back and crossed her arms to meet the younger teen's stature. Her eyebrows contorted unpleasantly. "Robin, you scared us. How the hell do you think we're going to react? This may be hunky dory and normal for you, but we were freaking out." _

"_I heard a pulse going faster." Conner shook his head and frowned. Blue eyes narrowed to the shorter teen, flashing with upset. "You really expect me to leave you in a room with those…those men? Sorry that I went with my first instinct with this, Rob." _

_Wally took the opportunity to push Artemis's hand off his mouth. "There! You see?" _

_From the other side of the room he could see Robin's fingers curl into fists. The Boy Wonder ducked his head, gaze at the ground and lips pressed together in a difficult frown. Zatanna placed a hand gently on his shoulder and whispered something too quiet for any of them to hear. _

"_Okay?" she finished. _

"_Ugh." Shaking his head in defeat, Robin changed his footing and ushered out of the room. He spared Wally one more glare before stomping down the hall, to the other side of the mountain, where he slammed the door so loudly that everyone left on the team winced. _

_Wow. No apology, and nothing to say to the team even though it was pretty obvious Wally was right. Biting down a glare of his own, he turned around and faced the team. "Who's up for movie night?" _

_It was a tradition of the team that if a mission ended during the weekend, they would watch movies and sleep at the cave. Which probably was why Robin elected to go to his room instead of storming out like Batman. That—and whatever Zatanna said to him probably calmed him down enough so he wouldn't leave. _

_Once they all changed into civvies, Wally called dibs on the couch. Megan and Conner went into the kitchen to bring out food and refreshments, and Artemis started a conversation with Kaldur. Her grip was tight over his hand, to the point nails were digging into the speedster's knuckles. Wally decided to ignore it—because whenever his girlfriend did that, it meant she thought he was being an asshole. And there was no way he was at fault for this._

_They chose to watch Perks of Being a Wallflower. Which didn't help an angry speedster, given the lead sort of looked like Dick Grayson. He tossed his head back with an audible groan, which earned confused looks from everyone on the team. _

_Robin didn't show up. _

_Halfway through the movie, Zatanna excused herself from their festivities. It hadn't gone unnoticed. _

_Realizing their magician had gone to comfort their resident acrobat, Wally reached for the remote and hiked the volume up louder. Artemis swiped it from him and tossed it on the table. Ugh. _

"_Please don't tell me I'm the one to blame for this." Wally crossed his arms fitfully in front of his girlfriend. _

_Who proceeded to swat him upside the head. Artemis frowned at him quaintly, head tilted to the side. He had to hand it to her—this was Artemis being calm. "You're the one who brought it up, Wally." _

_Wally made a face. "Yeah, but—"_

"_And you were right. We were all worried about him. And you're not wrong for bringing it up either. We know you were worried about him too. He's your best friend." She shook her head, rubbing a thumb over his knuckle gently before looking back up. Artemis's expression morphed, eyes flickering in a way Wally'd never seen before. The way she scrutinized him made his temper lessen—and he looked back, expression slackening. "And we all know that Robin is a professional at what he does." _

_True. Wally leaned back. "He could've kicked their butts with both hands tied behind his back if he wanted." _

"_Right. He's incredibly stupid for making us worry, and we should have trusted his abilities. He's Robin, the Boy Pain." The blonde jabbed a finger into Wally's arm pointedly and raised an eyebrow. "You're his best friend. Coming from you of all people hurt him." _

"_Yeah—but—!"_

"_Wally. Let me put it to you this way." She shoved him off the couch. _

"_Oof!" Wally fell to the floor and hit his head on the ground. Kaldur, Conner, and Megan looked over in confusion. _

"_If you don't make up with him, I'm not letting you walk me home tomorrow. And then you won't be able to bring home the bánh canh my mother planned on making." Artemis leaned over the armrest of the couch and pressed a foot to Wally's head. "Understood?" _

"_Gahhh. Okay, okay. Now get your foot off my head—you know I hate toes!" _

_Turning over to his back, Wally passed a glare to his girlfriend. He pushed off the ground as Artemis gave an angelic smile and crawled to his feet. As he walked down the hall, he caught a glimpse of Megan floating over to her best friend and giving each other fist-bumps. _

_Great. Girls were scary when they conspired. Blowing the hair out of his face, Wally made his way toward Robin's room. He raised a hand to knock on the door—which opened with an impromptu Boy Wonder colliding straight into Wally and knocking the speedster over. _

"_Oof!" _

"_Ow! What is it with people pushing me to the ground today?" Ouch. Wally hit the back of his head to the floor once more and groaned in pain. He looked up blearily as Robin pushed off of him to rub his head. They sat parallel to each other, matching painful grimaces and—ow. Wally pinched the bridge of his nose in pain. _

_Behind the door, Zatanna peeked out the door with an eloquent and knowing smile. "Tfil htob syob ot rieht teef." _

_There was a rush. Wally made a noise before some otherworldly force plucked both teenagers to the ground until they stood erect. He felt the motion in his belly and made a face—unlike Robin, who was clearly used to Zatanna's powers by now. _

"_Since you two are both here," she announced sweetly, and detached herself from the door, "I'm going to assume you're apologizing to each other. So if you excuse me, I'll be in the other room. Over there. Watching the movie and eating popcorn. We good?" _

_Robin nodded jerkily, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Good." _

"_Great. I'll see you two when you're done making up." The magician spared both of them looks before moving aside. She walked halfway down the hall before looking over her shoulder menacingly. "And you two will make up. Otherwise I'll put the cave on lockdown." _

_Silence. They waited until Zee had disappeared into the movie night darkness before turning to each other. Wally looked down to his best friend and made a face, just as Rob crossed his arms. "You showed her how to put the cave on lockdown?" _

_The younger teen shrugged. "All she has to do is say the words backwards and it'll be locked down anyway." _

"_Dude. You are so whipped." _

"_Opposed to Artemis threatening to take your food away unless you and I make up?" _

"_How did you—"_

"_I didn't." A ghost of a smirk appeared across Robin's face and he shook his head. "Dude. You're just that predictable." _

"_Oh. Right. Hey!" Twitching, Wally made a face and instinctively reached out to swat Robin over the head. The acrobat laughed and ducked, making him miss by at least a good foot and a half. Despite himself, Wally laughed too. _

_Then nothing. Silence. Robin had grabbed his arm in retaliation, with a grin split across his face. Once the laughter died out, it left just the two of them—green orbs staring at the shades of his best friend, and smiles that immediately faded. Wally's arms fell to his side, and they kept a foot of distance from each other. _

_Okay. Deep breath. "I'm—"_

"—_sorry." _

_Blink. _

_Blink. _

_The speedster scratched his head an scrunched his face. "Hey—I'm the one apologizing here." _

"_Yeah?" Robin glared back, hands crossed over his chest tersely. "Well, I'm apologizing too." _

"_Dude—"_

"_Dude." _

"_You're serious." Wally strapped both hands on the Boy Wonder's shoulders, and relished in the fact for the first time that night that Robin didn't push him off. Instead, he pulled Robin aside, eyebrows pressed together and looked at him closely. "You're apologizing to me." _

"_Yeah…?" Robin placed his hands on top of Wally's and shifted his weight. He looked up to the redhead tentatively, lips curling unenthusiastically. "And you're doing the same thing." _

"_Yeah. I'm…I'm sorry. Look, I just spent the past twenty minutes agreeing with Arty about how much of a badass you are." Wally ran one of his hands through his hair and squeezed Robin's shoulder tightly with the other one. "You just…you're my best friend, okay? And I got scared. If…it were anyone else—Artemis, Zatanna, Conner—I would have run in for them too." _

"_Artemis was trained by assassins. Zatanna can do magic. Conner is—"_

"_Dick." _

"_Right." Robin looked to the ground thoughtfully, his eyebrows pinched together and lips curled into a small frown. Looking back up, the teen gave a small nod. "I would have done the same thing. If…it were you, or anyone else on the team. Maybe dislocate a few more jaws." _

_Snort. "Of course you would." Wally nudged the acrobat halfheartedly. "Look—I'm…always going to be here. Questioning every stupid decision you do. And I expect you to do the same for me." _

"_I'm listening." _

"_We're a family, Rob. And family always looks out for each other." The redhead's demeanor flickered wryly, the corner of his lip raising. "Friends?" _

_He searched for the look of hesitation across the younger teen's face as soon as he said that. Dick's lips curled firmly together in debate—but slowly, formed into that usual dorky smile. "Friends." _

"_Good." Wally hugged him. _

"_What the—dude." _

"_Hey, you still pissed me off. Consider this your punishment." Unlike Dick's usual snark, he actually hugged back. Wally felt tiny arms wrap around his torso, and buried his face in the curve of Robin's neck once more. His arms were firmly wrapped around the tiny teen beneath him, hands hooking together. _

_Wally closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Sweet Pea. Robin's warmth pressed up against his cheek, ebony locks poking at his own. He…thought back to the club. To this same exact position, holding Robin closely and feeling the Boy Wonder's pulse against his own. Robin's arms looped over his shoulders, hands clawing the back of the redhead's back. He rested his head against Wally's ear, and they remained knotted together. _

_A content sigh left Wally's lips—followed by the painful ache that squeezed his chest. Robin was muttering stuff under his breath too quiet for him to hear. _

"_Rob?" Wally murmured softly into the teen's neck. Fingers rubbed circles into the freckles on his neck, and he heard a soft 'hmm?' in reply. "About that kiss…?" _

_Hands stopped altogether, loosening over the speedster. Robin pushed off, standing firmly on his own two feet. He fixed the shades over his eyes, hands running down on either side of Wally in a way that made him shiver. All the speedster could see was his reflection in the darkness of Robin's civilian disguise, with eyebrows knitted together in indecision. "Never happened?" _

_Because Dick was dating Zatanna and Wally himself was…well, finally dating Artemis. No matter how intense that kiss felt—who was he kidding, it was a freaking ten-second makeout—that was all undercover. There was no need to mention it, no need for Zee or Arty to freak out over it. No reason for __**them**__ to freak out over it. _

"_Right," Wally agreed. "Never happened." _

**xxx **

Dick was pissed.

_Beyond_ the word pissed. Once he heard the gunfire, he took the girl Wally had shoved him toward and covered her on the ground. The terrifying shrieks from the other end of the room had garnered his attention straight away, and caused the girl he was with to stop dancing. He'd hated the feel of the place as soon as Wally had brought him in. It was too clean, too unguarded. Given how sketchy the street around _Blush_ looked, his suspicions were confirmed.

And his eyes didn't leave the path Wally had taken to dart out of the room, when everyone else was screaming bloody murder. He'd made eye contact with the redhead who (Dick swallowed the gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach) was preoccupied with a tall, awkward-looking freshman. And Wally had looked_ back_.

In green eyes, it registered what kind of situation they'd gotten themselves into at the new club. It made Dick instantly reach for the eskrima sticks he kept hidden. In his line of sight there were approximately five _morons_ wielding pistols—and another one standing on top of the counter holding a gun to the lone bartender's face. When another shot had been fired in the air as a warning signal, Wally had _bolted. _

Wally _ran. _

Seething in anger, the teen could feel himself turn red with rage. He bit the feeling back and cocked his head up to hear gunfire. People ran in hysteria, stepping anywhere they pleased in order to find an exit or a shield while the buffoon in charge howled like a hyena.

"What are we going to do?" whimpered the girl beneath him. Her hands clinched around Dick's neck tightly, tears forming in the crevasses of her eyes. He sighed. _Dammit. _"Ohmygod,ohmygod, I can't believe we're _here_—"

"Hey." Dick forced a finger upon her lip to quiet her and narrowed his eyes. "Hey, what's your name?"

The tears accumulated and her lower lip quivered cutely. Her hair had gotten tangled between his fingers when they slammed into the ground. "B…Bella."

"Okay, Bella. Lay low in the crowd. If you stay beneath everyone, they shouldn't be able to find you. You're going to be okay. You're going to be okay," he repeated steadily, hair falling into his eyes, "okay?"

"O…Okay." She gasped, boogery sobs leaving her lips and dribbling out of her nose. Dick took the moment to unwind her hands from his neck and stood up. "But what are you going to—"

Before she had the chance to catch up to him, he surfed through the crowd of frightened people and unstrapped the eskrima sticks from the back of his pants. The teen whipped out a pair of shades from his pockets, shielded blue eyes perfectly, and inched toward a corner of the room where the least people were crowded. Already, civilians had began digging in their pockets and purses, throwing out their wallets and whatever valuable items that were strapped to them. The DJ had been forced into a headlock, with a gun shoved down his throat.

"Everyone drops their phones," said the main man. He looked to be in at least his late twenties, with three piercings in each ear and snake bites on his mouth. Judging by the way his hands shook with anticipation as he held the gun up to the bartender, this was his first heist. "No one calls the police! The first person I see dialing gets a bullet in the ear."

Nightwing headbutted the first guy to his right. He elbowed the man straight in the stomach, heard a disgruntled cry, and disarmed him immediately. The gun fell to the ground in a _CLATTER_ and evoked a shrill cry from bystanders.

Another gunman turned his head, eyes wide in absolute shock. "What the—"

Dick elbowed him in the throat and tripped him. The crowd dispersed, all in distinct murmurs as the rest of the head honcho's henchmen directed their attention toward him. He stood tall, gripping both eskrima sticks tightly in his hands. Flicking one in the air, a mocking smirk curled across his lips and he cocked his head toward the counter. "How's the weather up there?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" hissed the finicky man. Finicky Man's trembling arm pointed in his direction. "_Get down!_"

"Get back," the teen ordered the crowd. He pushed by near standers and managed to dodge the bullet as it was aimed toward him. His guess was that although the criminals were planning a large heist at the club, they didn't expect someone to stop them.

Which was why disarming the bad guys here was incredibly easy. Like combating against a five-year-old.

Well. Clearly, if he wasn't going to get his fix of bad guys while on patrol because of Wally, he might as well take it out here.

_SMACK. _Because Wally insisted enthusiastically for him to come over—_three days in a row_, making him skip out on his duties as Nightwing.

_SMACK. _Because of all places Wally could have taken him, it was to a club.

_SMACK. _Because Wally insisted on moving on with his life.

_SMACK. _To get a new girlfriend.

_SMACK. _

It wasn't that he minded Wally moving on with his life. He pushed away the painful knot in his throat the moment he knocked on the door over a week ago. _But_—Dick thought as he disarmed thug number eight—Wally was still out of commission, still off the roster, and still _forcing himself _to live a _stupid, normal life. _And that fucking idiot had the nerve to run out of the room during a crime scene.

The teen's stomach quenched. He kneed the last minion in the abdomen, gripped him tightly, and kicked him back. The ten 'evil henchmen' lay on the ground either groaning in pain or slowly losing consciousness. That left Nightwing standing parallel to the main man who was frozen with fear, bloodshot eyes wide and glossy. He leaned in scornful relaxation and smiled grimly.

"You're going to drop the bag, give everyone back their wallets and drop the weapon. _Understood_?" Dick trekked one footstep forward to emphasize his point.

"N-No," Finicky Man stammered. He shoved the Bartender away with brutal force and clutched a burlap sack that had been filled with items before scrambling off the counter. His eyes widened in fear, yellow teeth chattering. "Y-You can't take me in man! I-I'm still standing! _D-Don't come any closer!_"

The teen took calculating steps, all the way toward Finicky Man until they stood parallel to each other, with cold metal pressed at the square of Dick's chest. Beneath the shades, blue eyes narrowed somberly, and he placed an unworried hand over the gun. "Go ahead. Shoot me."

Finicky Man's eyes strained red, with eyebrows tensed all the way to his hairline. He dropped the gun with a heavy thud, and Dick used the opportunity to grab the man from behind.

"Anybody got a scarf?" he called out warily. The crowd of people looked to him in absolute stun. This…would have been easier if he wasn't stuck in civilian clothing. They stared at him with mouths opened wide and eyes popped out of their sockets. Dick made a point not to search for Bella in the crowd. If there were any way to salvage the situation with the least attention as possible, he was open for it. A lady up front unwound the cloth from her neck and tentatively came forth with her girlfriend. Dick smiled. "Thanks. Now…anyone sane enough to call the police?"

Fifteen minutes later, sirens whirred outside the club scene. Policemen burst through the doors, along with medics in case there were injured person that Nightwing had missed. Many of the girls (and some guys) had been generous to double knot temporary cuffs over the fallen criminals, and guns were unloaded and packed in a box to be given in as evidence.

As the attention went from Nightwing guarding both the box and men to the barricading officers, he shoved the evidence toward the bartender and made a swift exit through door he'd seen Wally go through. Once he was out of the line of fire, Dick stormed down the hall with hands coiled into fists and jaw clenched tight.

Wally was near the bathroom door, leaning against the entrance with a hand over one of his shoulders.

Rage blazed in Dick's body, reigniting in absolute fury. He saw green eyes looked up in acknowledgement—then, lost it. "_What the hell¸ _Wally?"

The redhead's face scrunched together, the guilt evident in his gaze. He pushed off the wall stiffly, with a palm pressed firmly behind him and opened his mouth to speak. Dick didn't give him the chance to.

"You know—you made that decision all those years ago to quit. You and Artemis both—and I respected that. The _Team_ respected that." Dick jabbed a finger to the speedster's chest and he glowered. "I have _always_ given you the fucking benefit of the doubt, and _hoped_ that you would return to the field _permanently. _And for you to _run out of there_ like it was no big fucking _deal_—"

"Is everyone okay?" Wally cut him off. His demeanor tensed, eyebrows glued together and mouth twisted with discomfort.

The teen ceased from his anger. Just for now. He sucked in a deep breath, eyes narrowing cruelly and scowled. "They're _fine. _Just—_how far were you planning on carrying this fucking charade and saying you're not a hero_? _How many_ innocent lives do you plan on putting at risk, just because you don't _feel like _being Kid Flash?"

"'Fucking charade'?" The redhead's eyes doubled twice in size. He gritted his teeth and pushed against the teen, to put at least two feet of air between them. "Dude, you know for a _fact_ I don't treat hero-ing like a _fucking charade. _You have _no idea _what's going on in my life right now!"

"'_Dude!'" _Dick mimicked callously. "_YOU JUST LEFT A ROOM FULL OF INNOCENT BYSTANDERS AT GUNPOINT! HAHAHA!_" Dick shoved back, maybe twice as hard as the frustration boiled in his chest. "And _I don't know what's going on in your life right now_? Sure—" _Shove. _"—I bet you go to school every day, go to your stupid _internship_ with STAR labs, sip some _turb_ing coffee, feed your _stupid_ dog and live some humdrum life. I bet you spent the day hitting on every girl you saw at a café—or, for that matter, _everything _between the ages eighteen and thirty that had a pulse. I _bet_ you turned on the news today and just went, 'Hmm, _good for those firemen for saving the cat out of the tree_." _Shove. _"I bet, _not once _today, you even _thought _of being Kid Flash again, or even in that room, _thought_ how _scared_ those people were!"

Wally's back hit the wall and he winced. For some reason, he rubbed his knuckles—then glared at the teen with just as much anger. He pushed Dick back and stood taller on his feet. "_Look. _I'm so fucking _sorry _that I walked away from the heroing life. I'M SORRY I WASN'T _THERE_. But you—" _Shove. _"—are _not_ the person who tells me what I can fucking do and not do in my life! That is _not_ your job!"

Dick fell three steps back and coiled his hands into fists. His eyes narrowed at the speedster and he shoved away the thought to just _punch _him. Taking a deep breath, he spoke steadily. "Really?"

"Really." Wally swallowed hard and tapped his foot to the ground impatiently.

"I talked to Artemis, you know." Dick shifted between his feet in hopes to calm himself down. It wasn't working. Instantly green eyes perked, eyebrows rising in stun. The younger man's nails dug into his palms. "She says that you don't go running. You _trained_ yourself to stop speeding every other second. You _drive _that stupid car so you can be _normal. Newsflash_, Wally. _You're not normal. _You _haven't_ been normal since you got struck by lightning at age thirteen!"

"What the hell is with you?!" Wally's voice raised—something that Dick wasn't actually counting on. The redhead stepped forward, eyes double the size they were previously and the scowl on his face. "You know what, screw it. I'm _done_ with you!"

"_Excuse me_?"

"You _heard_ me! You're checking with my _ex-girlfriend_ to see what I've been up to? Do you check every time I use a zeta-beam tube? When I go home? I'm _not_ your little guinea pig to _watch_, Dick! _Not_ one of your freaking _pawns _to move. What I do with my speed is _my _choice and—_Not. Yours. _You can't just order me around and tell me to put on the fucking uniform. You're not my leader, I'm not on the team." Wally threw his arms in the air. "I'm _done_ with you."

Wait. "Wally—"

Wally sped way.

Quickly.


	6. Tests, Commit, Labor, Speed

**Chapter 6: **Tests, Commit, Labor, Speed

They ran a lot of tests.

Over and over, with the same results as last time. The numbness had spread up his arm, all the way to his elbow since yesterday when Dick and he fought. Dr. Shriver checked out his vitals, drew a blood sample, and consulted with Cheung and Attar with the best plan of action. They allowed him to watch as they (_slowly_) drew results and kept the pulse monitor strapped to his hand as he ran the course of the room, then even further in STAR Lab's personal backyard.

At first, Wally felt fluid. Like he was fifteen again darting through enemy lines without a worry in his head. The redhead was able to flex his muscles, dig his feet into the ground, and accelerated to top speed without too much worry. The energy constricted in his chest, wind whistling in his ears until he pushed further—_600mps, 650mps—_then, he reached his peak and fell over.

Literally.

Pain shot through his body like a flare gun, the burn reappearing in his left leg before he collapsed to the ground, face first. Dammit_. _Wally pushed against the ground with his hand again and felt the sting surge through his arm. _Dammit. _He shoved himself off—and instead, rolled onto his back, with his skull digging into fresh grass. _Dammit, dammit, __**dammit! **_

"_Wallace_!" hissed a member of his audience. Dr. Shriver and Dr. Attar appeared at his side and propped him up to a sitting position.

Numb, Wally attempted to jerk out of their grip and was met with a stronger hold from Cheung. He slammed a dead fist into the dirt and pushed sweaty goggles off his face. "Give it a minute. I can stand up if—if you _give it a minute_, then I'll be back on my feet again."

"Mister West," Dr. Cheung announced steadily. His expression hardened and he kept a secure hand on the man's arm. "Forgive me if I'm being _forward_ about this, but you are the one that needs to calm down."

Wally choked on a breath. He knotted grass between his fingers, legs crossing together, and felt his heart hammer violently in his chest, just like his head. "No, you're…" He faltered and buried his face tiresomely in his hands. "You're not being forward at all. Sorry. I'm—I'm cool. Promise."

He sucked the air into his lungs until they felt full, stared at his sneakers tentatively, and pushed himself off the ground. Attar and Cheung looped his arms around their shoulders as he tried and failed to press weight on his feet. Dr. Shriver slipped the pace monitor off his wrist and frowned.

"Your heart is going double the pace it normally does, Wallace." They carried him to a chair they had brought to the field and picked up a water bottle sitting on a table. "How do you feel?"

_Weak. _"Like every part of my body locked up as soon as I tried to go further." Wally wiped the sweat off his brow, head pounding, and gulped the bottle dry. He seethed, massaging his left calf gingerly, and closed his eyes when he realized he couldn't curl his toes. Pressing a hand to his face, Wally leaned back in his seat and tried not to shrivel. "It's spreading_._"

"To your legs?" Dr. Attar asked.

"Randomly." Screwing the cap back onto his water bottle, Wally pushed onto his legs and held his breath, anticipating the moment he could stand on his own two feet. He took three steps forward, with all of doctors watching his every move, and curled his hands into fists. "I—I figured that if—_when_ it spread, it…would go to the other arm first."

Two spasms in one day. _Two. _One that was powerful enough to knock him out for six hours and another one that happened less than _four hours_ consequently after the last one. At least that one didn't knock him unconscious.

"Perhaps something else blocked you from running, Wallace." Dr. Shriver stood in front of him—quickly, before Wally could possibly get away. Not that he even had the thought to. Her brow knit together like a worried mother, eyes inspecting him for a secondary reasoning for his behavior.

Wally almost laughed. He pushed the hair out of his face, felt a chill as air brushed against the sweat on his neck, and curled his hand into a fist. "I just had two shocks in the past two weeks, Doc. What do you think?"

She spared him a look, pitiful. Great.

Sucking in a breath, Wally bit the inside of his mouth and turned back to the chair. "Sorry." Then, "Really—sorry. Mom…always says I should be a gentleman." Along with always walking a girl to the door, always opening said door for her, and always keep a combat wrestling move ready for when she pinned him. (Again—did he mention his mother adored Artemis?)

"That's quite alright." Dr. Shriver pushed her glasses over her nose.

"More tests?" Wally swallowed hard.

She nodded. "More tests."

Of course, more tests meant going to the building. Wally had been feeling the rush of alertness since yesterday—since the club incident. Bart informed him that the _Blush fight_ made Central City news, with the mysterious _Handle Bar Club Fighter_ being celebrated as a hero. With a whelming question—_Was this Central City's next big hero? _

His first instinct would have been to call Nightiwng up and call him a _dog_ for becoming a mysterious hero in his part of town—had not their fight happened. Wally pinched the bridge of his nose between tests (testing the reaction time of both his dead hand and dying foot; trying shock therapy; doing both MRIs and CT scans of several parts of his body) and tried to shove the teen out of his mind.

It was _not_ Dick's place to tell him what to do.

Not as a leader, not as a friend.

So much had happened in the past year between them that trusting Dick right off the bat was harder than he thought it would be. Because right off the bat, Wally _had_ trusted his best friend to _never_ treat him like a suspect. Someone to crack, someone to break.

And—_god_, the argument about him coming back onto the field was such a freaking _broken record_ that he didn't want to hear it. Wally dug himself the grave three years ago when he resigned from the team because of the issues with his powers. Working the words out now—_'Something's been manifesting since I was a little kid, and I'm dying'_—didn't seem like it would bode over well. Dick didn't even _try_ getting in contact with him since their argument. The way it was going, he was surprised he hadn't left with a bloody nose—or worse, given the old Boy Wonder had a black belt in every martial art known to mankind.

Wally wouldn't have fought back—knowing he fully deserved it after abandoning the hostages.

This…was his life now.

Sucking in a breath, Wally lay at the table in something similar to a hospital bed and massaged the bone of his dead wrist. He squeezed his eyes shut, hearing the hum of the machine around him, and forced himself to stay perfectly still.

Wading out existence, taking tests at STAR Labs, never running again, and wondering how long it would take before he lost all the feeling in his body. Then going home to see Bart waiting on the couch and assuring him he got all of his powers back. He'd yet to even _conjure_ a spasm while being the test subject, so he wasn't even sure how _right_ all of these conclusions were.

"What's the verdict?" he asked when they allowed him to climb up the stairs out of the lab and into the monitoring room. Attar, Cheung, and Shriver pinned the results to a wall, and allowed him to see a silhouette of his body.

"We have a theory." Dr. Attar turned around.

Wait. "Really?" Blinking, Wally trudged forward and placed a hand over Dr. Shriver's seat to get a better look.

"Whenever you describe your body going into speedster shock," Dr. Cheung started, and he pointed to Image A, "You describe it as though the energy and your powers are crushing your internal organs. You've spent the past three years trying to remain as a civilian, with fewer shocks."

"Yeah. But that was before this year." Wally dragged over a rolling chair and plopped down.

"Before this year you did not use your speed as much as you have now. The incident in Central City with Neutron, the incident with the Reach." Dr. Shriver pointed to the second image. "And after both instances, you informed us these pains were the most intense than you've had before."

Well. "Yeah." Running a hand through his hair again, Wally leaned back in his seat. The incident in June in particular. Bart had told him that was when he first noticed the problem.

"Just today, your body locked up on you as you tried to go past the speed of sound, Mister West." Dr. Attar reached for a clipboard that had all of the results of the past tests from the past two months. "We…have reason to believe that is Problem B. As you try to venture past the speed your limits allow, your body's defense activates and stops you from doing so."

"I'm slower than my uncle and my cousin. I know that." He'd known that since he was a kid. Wally twitched, sifting through the results without really looking at them. By now he knew them by heart—and really, really didn't want to know how slow his reaction time had gotten in his hands.

"It tries to protect you, but it is also what is causing the numbness in your body."

Pause. _What? _Looking up, Wally met the eyes of all three doctors and bit back the irritation from the pitiful looks that they gave him. He was getting so _tired_ of that. Running the information in his mind again, he sat up and gripped the armrest. "You're…saying that because I'm trying to push my limits, I'm harming myself."

"Not only that."

"Great. I love a mug and plate of bad news in the morning."

They gave him sad looks, instead of the usual callousness that went with his jokes. Dr. Cheung spoke up. "We believe that what you felt last night was an accumulation of excess energy. From…_not _running."

"Wait a minute." The redhead twitched. "Excuse me?"

"You explained to us that you lost consciousness after time spent with Impulse. That would have been Problem B—your body shutting down in order to protect yourself. Problem A happened later on that night," Dr. Shriver said. "It's possible the energy accumulated in that short period of time—and without an external outlet, caused your body to spasm in order to rid itself of the problem.

There was no way this was real.

"You've got to be kidding me." Wally pressed hands into the arm chair, eyebrow raising in the air in disbelief. He felt the beginnings of a headache throb at his temples. "You're telling me that _because_ I run fast, I hurt myself. And _because_ I _don't_ run—I _hurt_ myself?"

"We…did say that it was a theory," Dr. Attar pointed out. His face twisted unpleasantly.

Wally's brain basically stopped. "But that—" All lined up. Well. _Very _well. All of the instances where he forced himself to stop running, and then the burst of pain as that unused energy tried to find an outlet. And when he _did_ go running… He buried his head in his hands. "No way."

"I am sorry, Wallace." Dr. Shriver placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

Without thinking, Wally jerked away. There was no way _that_ was the solution for it. "The kid says I get my speed back. That I don't just become a lifeless _vegetable_, Shriver. You can't just tell me that I have to _stop._"

When he looked back up, his caretakers were all giving him odd looks. Like he'd grown a second head with wings. The way they scrutinized him made discomfort swell in his chest.

"Surely," Dr. Cheung said, "you don't trust the methods of a thirteen-year-old boy, Mister West."

Never underestimate the 'methods' of a thirteen-year-old boy. _Thirteen _was the age that got him into the mess he was now. Wally scratched his head, still strangely apathetic. He just—didn't know how to deal with this. And again, the way they _stared_ at him made his stomach twist warily. "He happened to build a time machine."

"But the way he goes about it may end up exacerbating the problem rather than resolve it, Wallace." Dr. Shriver's tone shifted painfully. Her eyes narrowed beneath her glasses and she looked to him as a skeptic. "He is one of the reasons why your illness has accelerated this year, is he not?"

No. Bart was a hero. The redhead bit back a frown, instead sitting straighter in his seat. He curled his hands beneath the cushion and bit the inside of his mouth. But they were right—the past year had been spent with more incidents where he put on the suit than ever. The entire reason for him even _being_ here was to isolate the problem.

And going back and forth between his _hopeful_ cousin and notes written down at a lab was taking a toll on him.

"So what's your remedy for the situation?" he asked quietly.

Dr. Shriver's eyes flickered solemnly. She set the clipboard down, eyes narrowing to the teen, and shook her head. "You stop running for good. This time commit to the life without the costume, and hope the problem goes away by itself. Stop trying to be Kid Flash altogether."

**xxx **

The following weekend, Wally decided to go home and spend the time in Central City. He asked the neighbor downstairs to feed the dog and make sure Brucely was let out at least once an hour so there wasn't pee on the carpet—and so the dumb mutt could have the extra leg room. (One of them had to—right?)

The redhead packed enough for two days with the intent to stay the entire weekend and clear his mind. Luckily, when he spun the tale for his mother over the phone, she enthusiastically agreed to take him in and "cheer him up" from his breakup from Artemis. Which—given how his past few weeks had gone, hadn't even crossed his mind. Wally hadn't seen her since she moved out.

Mom apparently bought a mini-fridge for his old room and packed it with cold snacks in case he got hungry in the middle of the night. She spent money on his new wardrobe for the winter (like she always did) and assured him that there would be plenty of food waiting for once he got back home. Although he reminded her he would only be there for a _weekend_, she cut him off and happily announced that "Richard" was allowed to come over as well, if he wanted something to eat.

Great. Five days of refusing to even _acknowledge_ his (ex)-best friend and his mother had to mention it because she wasn't _up to speed_ with his personal life. He rolled his eyes on the phone and informed her he hadn't answered the offer.

Friday night was spent with a relieving dinner with just his parents. They asked him all of the usual questions, badgered him about his personal life and—brought Dick up a lot. Wally finally had to stop in the middle of dinner and inform the pair they weren't speaking. After that, dinner was silent. Bart came by later as a last minute sleepover, giving him odd looks while Wally averted his eyes.

They hadn't seen each other since his visit with STAR Labs. Who—too, Wally announced to his little team of doctors that he needed a break from them. They protested his decision, but the redhead cut them off. Wally needed a break.

A _real _one, _away_ from trouble, _away_ from the possibility of picking a fight. Especially if it was going to end as badly as it did the other night. So he swallowed his feelings and took the sting hard, while Bart and he half-heartedly played videogames in his room. After a late-night run to get ten pints of ice cream from Wal-Mart (of course, after searching for Dad's car keys and hijacking the car—_along_ with trying to tell an impatient adolescent speedster to shut up), they rode out their sugar rush. At about four in the morning, Wally advised Bart to crash on the bed and searched his old closet for extra blankets so he could sleep on the floor. (Apparently he was too big for his old sleeping bag. Bart declared himself a caterpillar and decided to use _that_ as his blanket on the mattress.)

The wooden floor creaked when he turned the lights off. Wally felt a small lithe body curl up next to his, and a tiny arm try to reach over his torso.

Sigh. "Bart—"

"We're fixing the problem," the tiny teen whispered. "You're _going_ to be Kid Flash again. Okay?"

All thoughts drew short in Wally's head. _Jeez. _He hadn't even told the kid about the spasm yet. Or…the visit with STAR Labs. What they told him. Bart's hand hooked around his dead arm, and—instantly, the brunet twitched like a _roly-poly _before snoring _loudly_ the redhead's ears.

Wow. Wally fidgeted and rolled his eyes. _Brat. _

He unrolled the slumbering speedster from his burrito of a sleeping bag, and spread it over the both of them. The brunet muttered something about _tacos_ and nuzzled his forehead into Wally's arm like a child. Even in his _sleep_ this kid never stopped moving.

Wally sighed and closed his eyes.

It was just the break he needed.

The next day was committed to hanging out with Aunt Iris. Fortunately Bart would be preoccupied with the team all weekend. (Wally hadn't the slightest idea how the kid was able to pop awake after less than three hours of sleep, manage to help his mom out with breakfast, and dutifully recite the _Funnies_ at the table after he accidentally set them on fire.) Dad would be at work, Uncle Barry was busy with League missions, Mom and Joan had gone to their weekly book club. (And Wally figured Jay would be excited to finally catch up on those old-people naps since he had the house to himself.)

At thirty-seven weeks of pregnancy, it was amazing Aunt I's stomach hadn't exploded into a pile of guts yet. She'd been on maternity leave for the past few days with no one to entertain her. Uncle B was preoccupied as the Flash, Mom and Dad had their jobs and—well, given it was Aunt Iris, Wally assumed she was tired of knitting booties with Jay and Joan. Even Bart had his own preoccupations, and the redhead didn't need to ask if his little cousin visited the woman.

The (ex)speedster offered a smile when he greeted her at the door and Aunt I nearly took him out with that swollen belly. (Pregnant ladies were a dangerous weapon—go figure.)

"Someone looks beautiful. And—uh. Dangerous." He had to lean over her to give a proper kiss on the cheek and a hug. Amusement teemed in his eyes for his favorite aunt. "Lady Flash?"

"I think I'll pass on that." She laughed gratefully, confirming that, _yes, _the Best Aunt in the World was definitely dying of boredom with no one to entertain her. Aunt Iris shut the door behind them and gestured for Wally to come into the room. "What's the plan for today, babe?"

"I figured…baking cookies and Lord of the Rings marathon?" Wally gestured to the satchel in his grasp and offered a cheeky grin. "I got all three _Hobbit_ movies too."

"You're _wonderful._"

"Hey—I got the best aunt in the world, don't I?"

They moved their order of operations to the kitchen, where Wally struggled to hide his amusement. He'd seen her throughout the pregnancy and carrying the twins—but it was strangely the cutest thing to watch, with her waddling around in a maternity dress. The Allen Household was filled with new baby stuff—baby bassinets, baby bottles, baby _changing tables_, baby onesies that weren't folded up yet—and all of them still in the original packaging. Wally would have bet his entire lifesavings that Uncle B was going to assemble everything last minute after the babies were born. Showoff.

"Bart came over earlier to eat breakfast," Aunt Iris explained when he looked to the seat that was still pulled out at the table.

"Really? Because he was just over at my house twenty minutes ago setting the toaster oven on fire." Arching a wry eyebrow, Wally looked up to his aunt as she searched the cabinet for flour. He had to hand it to her—any other person probably would have gone crazy from this long of interaction with three men with super speed.

Well. He rubbed his numb knuckles thoughtfully and reached for an empty bowl to mix the contents in. Two guys with super speed.

"Are you feeling alright?" Aunt Iris broke through his ministrations before he could delve into his thoughts.

Looking up, he was met with a thoughtful smile. She placed a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with concern. The redhead bit the inside of his mouth and shrugged. "Uh…yeah. I mean…you're the one that's going to explode with guts within the next few days, right?"

"Charming thought." She gazed upon him wryly, hand pressed gently over her stomach. In a matter of moments, her look softened and she ruffled his hair again. "I know that look on your face. You got something on your mind?"

"What makes you think I've got something on my mind?"

"Because you're never without a thought."

"Fair point." Running a hand through his hair, Wally struggled for a smile and sat down. "I needed a break from being _Wally West, _soon-to-be college graduate."

"Any reason in particular?" she went over to the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of eggs. "Wally West, my sweet nephew?"

"Yeah." The words swelled in his throat and he smiled down thoughtfully to his fingers. A short sigh left his throat and he rubbed his head. He might as well talk to someone about it—so far his entire family felt the need to badger him about his relationship with one Richard John Grayson. "Uh…Dick and me. We had a fight."

Unlike his parents, Aunt Iris gave him an odd look he couldn't decipher. Mom and Dad were disappointed last night when he announced what happened—but he hadn't had the nerve to tell him why. Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry were always a different case. He told her _everything_, even before Uncle Barry ever came into the picture. She understood him more.

"Not one of our usual fights either," he continued when he saw the look on her face. Wally stood up instantly to pull out a chair for the pregnant woman. Her eyes flashed with concern and Wally couldn't help but sigh in frustration. "He's…mad. That I won't put the costume back on." Looking her in the eye, his brow twitched. "Permanently."

"Ah." She nodded sagely, eyebrows contorting together. "You know when you did the experiment back when you were thirteen, Barry was worried sick about you."

"Because I stole the ingredients for it from your closet." A wistful smile curled against Wally's lips, thinking back to the day he nearly killed himself.

"And after you nearly _died_," the woman responded, returning her nephew's look, "he wanted to cherish every moment he had with you as Kid Flash. When you hung up the suit, he was sad. But we all always had your best interest in mind."

"Thanks for that." Wally reached over and fiddled with the carton of eggs. He bit the inside of his mouth and looked across the table. "I just…wish Nightwing realized that too. You should have seen the look on his face when he saw me at the—" He cut himself off. Explaining the entire contents of the fight meant explaining everything.

Aunt Iris reached over the table and placed a hand over his with concern. "At the what?"

"Nothing." The redhead pressed a hand to his face and curled his brow in frustration. He tried to look at her, and found it absolutely impossible. "He was already mad that I dragged him to a club. Apparently he's been missing patrol to spend the time with me." Which, he tried hard not to feel guilty of. "I mean—he _can't _pin the blame on me, right? I—I didn't _ask_ him to give up anything to spend time with me. This is the whole reason Artemis and I couldn't work out since she wants to go back to being a hero—there are so many things that you have to _give up _to be together, and it's not okay on _either_ life, so—"

"Wally." Aunt Iris cut him off, eyes narrowed. "You know that's exactly how your uncle and I live, right?"

Wait. "Well—"

"I live my life as a civilian, expecting the twins, going to my job," she gestured to her stomach. "And he lives life as a forensic scientist for the Central City Police Department and has business with the league. And we're married. We make it work."

Yeah. But. Uh. The redhead blinked, staring blankly at his aunt. "Yeah, but that's different. You…do more than that."

"I'm sure I'm not the only person with a superhero for a husband, hon." She stood up, steadily pushing herself off the table and went over to preheat the oven. "And I'm assuming your relationship with Dick hasn't been the same since you quit the team."

"Well…no. I saw him less to begin with."

"Pursuing a relationship with someone in a costume is hard, Wally. But you learn how to make it work." Iris came back and sat down in front of him. She gave him another sympathetic look and gripped his dead hand. "You two have been best friends since the day you became Kid Flash. I'd hate to see you throw it all away because of some silly fight."

Except for the fact that fight escaladed into more, bringing in the fact that Dick was _monitoring hi_—"Wait. Did you just say 'pursue a relationship' with Dick Grayson?" Snapping out of his ministrations, Wally's eyes bugged out of his head. In return, Aunt I gave her nonchalant shrug that meant she had nothing else to say about the conversation. "You…_do_ know that I just broke up with my girlfriend like—"

"Two weeks ago?" she placed a hand on his shoulder gently and offered a smile. "There isn't a designated time limit for getting over relationships, Wally."

"Funny. Pretty sure Mom said the same thing to me yesterday." Right before she delved into a conversation about how he and Dick were doing. Wally scratched his head, eyes staring at the table in shock. He ran the thought through his mind—which, only came up with him running straight into a wall. _Okay then. _"I'm…not up for a new relationship just yet, Aunt I. It's…just too soon." Besides—he hadn't even thought about his best friend in that light in years. No point to.

"I understand."

"Seriously, Aunt I. I…" He pursed his lips. "I bought her an engagement ring."

The look on her face next made his chest tighten. Aunt Iris walked up to him slowly and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "You'll manage."

Hopefully. He returned the sentiment, embracing the woman affectionately before giving her a kiss on the cheek. They hadn't solved anything—probably planted more in Wally's mind than he needed at the moment. Talking with Aunt Iris usually made him better though. "Well, enough of that. How about we—you feeling okay?"

A pained look crossed across Iris's face. She placed a hand over her stomach, eyebrows furrowing together and frown curled at her lip. Uh-oh.

"About you exploding into guts earlier?" Wally's face stretched with perplexity. "That's…not going to happen right no—"

"_Ooh._" She looped a hand around his dead one and squeezed it tightly. Instantly the redhead went from inspecting his aunt to helping her sit down.

"I'll call the doctor." Wally stretched to reach the phone and—"Wait. I don't _know_ who the doctor is. Um. Uh—did your water break? Can we like, actually get a new one from the fridge? God I should know this, shouldn't I—"

"Wally." Iris gritted her teeth and forced a smile to her face. "I'm going to go lie down in the living room, and you're going to bake the cookies."

"You're going to lie down," Wally repeated, "and I'll bake cookies. Wait—newborns don't have _teeth._"

"They might be Braxton-Hicks contractions."

He blinked. Despite the obvious look of distress on her face, Aunt Iris ruffled his hair once more and carried herself into the living room. Wally followed her, hand placed carefully on her back and the other guiding the woman to the sofa. "You…seriously want me to bake cookies."

"We'll play off the next one when it comes." She reached into a table drawer and pulled out a timer. "If they get to around five minutes apart, we go to the hospital."

"Really?" he asked her with worry.

"Really." Aunt Iris lay down and ruffled his hair like he was a little kid. "I want cookies to eat."

The next hour was spent with Wally worrisomely working the kitchen. He looked over his shoulder constantly, to his _completely-relaxed_ aunt in the middle of taking a nap, followed the recipe taped onto the refrigerator, and nervously paced the length of the floor. Wally stopped himself from speed-pacing or speed-doing anything out of instinct. After putting the cookies into the oven and placing a blanket over the expecting mother, he searched the master bedroom and found a suitcase filled with Aunt Iris's clothes on the mattress.

Prepped and ready. One would _have_ to be if they were dating a superhero.

Once he had everything rounded up (and took the cookies out of the oven), Wally trekked back into the living room and winced at the grimace that fell across Aunt Iris's face before gently shaking her awake. "Aunt Iris?"

The woman stirred tiredly, eyebrows contorted and a soft groan leaving her lips. "Yeah, babe?"

"I called Mom and Joan. They're downtown, so they'll meet us at the hospital." Wally reached over to help her feet. He bit his lip, eyes falling to her protruding stomach and shifted between his tennis shoes. "Couldn't get a hold of Dad or Uncle Barry or the kid. I'm just going to take you there myself."

"Wally, I'm—"

"Do you really wanna risk it with two speedsters inside of you?"

Aunt Iris looked back to him and his panicking face, and Wally had to remind himself to breathe. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and nodded gently. "But what about my—"

"Bag?" Wally gestured to the suitcase on the ground. "Got it. C'mon, Aunt I, you'd be prepared for an apocalypse if you could. Probably have—look at our family history." He tried for a playful grin and relished in the fact she laughed. "All that's left is how to get there. I'll try calling Barry again and hopefully both he and the kid can do a U-Turn and meet us."

He'd actually walked to the house in order to clear his head. Uncle Barry and Aunt I only lived a few blocks away from his house growing up, so that didn't make it a problem. At the moment—he didn't have a car to take both of them. But…Wally wasn't completely useless, despite what the doctors were insisting for him to do.

So screw them.

Wally swept Aunt Iris up in his arms with ease, dangled the suitcase steadily in one arm and fumbled into a grin. "Since he isn't here _now_, I guess I'll be the one to say I'll get you to the hospital in a flash."

"That's…very sweet of you, Wally." Amusement teemed in her eyes and she pointed toward the kitchen. "But your uncle forgot to take the SUV with him again. The keys should be in the kitchen. Make sure you turned the oven off, too."

Oh. "Okay, well. That works too."

**xxx**

In less than twenty-four hours, he would have twin cousins born at Central City Hospital. Donald and Dawn. Cool. They took the long drive to Central City Hospital, where by now, Wally knew by heart. (He'd had a lot of accidents as a kid—from falling out of trees to near death incidents by squirrels.) Aunt Iris was admitted to the maternity ward, where the doctor confirmed that it was definitely "the real thing." Once Joan and Mom arrived from their book club, elated and excited for the birth of the twins, Wally decided to make his exit.

Doctors and orderlies? He'd had enough of that in the past few weeks. Aunt Iris gave him a thankful look and advised Wally to get something good to eat at the hospital cafeteria. With a weak smile, Wally agreed to do so, and gave both Dad and Jay a tiny wave before heading down the hall.

The redhead froze when he reached the elevator—and opted to take the stairs instead. They were cold and metal—practically the opposite of pleasant as he descended down the stairs in a meandering pace.

Wally missed running. _A lot. _

There wasn't a lot of that done before his appointment at STAR Labs. Not as much as there should have been. Cheung informed him that future tests would be to check the function of his muscles. No more running for a long time—not even to see how his body was reacting. No more feeing the tightness in his calves as he pounded his feet into the ground, no more wind whistling in his ears—no more bugs slapping into his face. (He'd actually really liked that part.)

Quitting before this ultimatum was easy because he could always put the uniform back on. Now…he couldn't even do that.

The redhead closed his eyes and let out a breath as he reached the cafeteria. The loud beep of his phone caught his attention—along with everyone else in the room when the song _Thrift Shop_ played on his phone. Oops. Sparing an apologetic look, Wally pressed it to his ear. "Barry?"

"_Hey, kid. Sorry—I. Just got your call." _Flash's voice exploded through—in a strangely anomalous tone.

Wally blinked. "No—uh. It's fine. We're at the hospital—"

"_What? Is everything okay with Iris?" _

"Yeah. Don't worry, I took care of everything. She's in labor—we're at the hospital right now."

"_Aw, man. Okay—meet me downstairs. I'll be there in a Flash." _

"Oka—" Barry hung up the phone before Wally could finish his answer. He looked at the phone skeptically, rolled his eyes, and opted to take the elevator. Looking around the front lawn, the redhead texted his uncle. Coast is clear. 

A quick hum caught his ears, along with the familiar sight of the scarlet blur as it torpedoed through the hospital parking lot. Instead of swirling in a cyclone and changing into civilian clothes, Flash stopped directly in front of the redhead. With his uniform in tatters.

"Uncle B?" Wally blinked, scrutinizing his uncle from head-to-toe. Half of Flash's cowl had been ripped off, revealing the man's blonde hair and blackened (healing) green eye. The Flash insignia had been completely torn off, revealing a red spot on his chest. One glove had been yanked off, and both of his hero's boots looked worn down to the seams.

He focused on the man's bloodied lip, mouth dry as Barry half-heartedly pushed the ripped cowl over his eyes.

"I tried calling you four times while we were at the house. What—what held you up?" There barely anything _fast _enough to land a _hit_ on the Flash let alone beat him up. Wally could feel his mind whirling to conclusions and impossibilities. "You look like _crap._"

"Glad to see you too, kid." A smile etched across the man's lips despite everything, and immediately dropped.

"_Barry_." Wally grabbed him by the arm to keep his attention. "I _called_ you."

"I was…on a league mission. Finished it early. Was going to go home and then…" Barry frowned and pressed a hand to his head. "Boom."

"_Boom_?" The redhead's eyebrows contorted. "What do you mean, _'boom_'?"

"There…was another speedster on the road. He…heknockedmeout." The man's tone deteriorated, expression scrunching together. His jaw tightened, and all calmness seemed to leave. "He went at my _speed_ and managed to…well, do _this._"

"But…no one knows about that formula except for you, me, and Jay." That was impossible. Wally blinked furiously and shook his head. "And after _I_ used it, you promised to take that recipe to the grave, Uncle B. How could you—how could _that_ happen?"

"Dunno. I mean—wait." Barry's eyes widened three times their size. Suddenly he gripped Wally by the shoulders, panic exploding across his face. "He ripped the emblem off my chest, Wally—told me that I wasn't the Flash. That—he was going after _speedsters. _Oh, god—_Bart. _Whatifhe—"

"Barry! Barry—calm down." Pushing the man off, the redhead could feel his heart beat twice its normal rate. He put distance between them, securely placed his hands on either side of his uncle, and jerked his head toward the door. "I'll call Bart. We'll figure this out. Right now—your wife's in labor."

"Right," Uncle Barry said. He took in a deep breath and relaxed. "Right, I gotta—_oh man, _I've gotta go get her suitcase—"

"Done."

"—gotta call the family—"

"Done."

"—filloutthepapers—"

"_Done. _I even made _cookies._" For a moment, the younger speedster broke out of his seriousness and broke into a tiresome smile. He patted the man on the arm and pushed the Fastest Man Alive toward the door. "Uncle Barry, you're about to be a father. Go clean up and see Aunt Iris."

His old mentor's eyes flashed appreciatively as they looked over to him. Uncle Barry drew a sharp breath, turned around, and threw his arms around the young redhead. "You're amazing—you know that, Kid?"

"Erghh—yeah. But you stink." Biting back a laugh, Wally guided the man toward the lobby. "Go. I'll call Bart, and we'll go from there with this speedster thing, okay?"

Uncle Barry looked to him hesitantly—the nodded. "Okay."

Geez. Apparently there was a listening problem when it came to this family. Waiting until the man was out of sight (and hopefully into new clothes, so Barry didn't freak out the mother-to-be), Wally pulled out his phone again and distanced himself from the hospital. He waited—one ring, two rings.

"_Wally?" _

"Kaldur. Uh—what are you doing with my cousin's cell phone?"

"_All phone calls are intercepted by the Watchtower, unless it is considered an emergency." _

Great. He must have been running things from behind. Rubbing his eyes, the redhead scrunched his face. "Since when was _that_ rule put in effect?"

"_It happened while you've been away._" Something about his tone made Wally blink. _"Impulse is acting on Team Beta seeking out information about the new product LexCorp has introduced in Metropolis." _

"I need to talk to him. Flash is pretty spooked about something—" And, well, his dad was about to be born. Wally made a face into the phone—he would never get used to that fact. A reluctant sigh passed through the phone, which did little to Wally's temper. "Please?"

"_I will patch you through._"

"Thanks."

He waited a moment to hear his phone go to the comm.-link frequency, opened his mouth, and—

"_You of all people should know better than to interfere during a mission._"

—never got the chance. Nightwing's voice shot through, chilly and constructed. Wally's fingers curled around the phone, his jaw tight in disbelief. His heart throbbed—and for the first time in five days, his best friend's voice delved into his mind. "Sorry, _Wingster. _Family emergency." Then, he added abruptly for Kaldur, "I was hoping for a _private_ conversation."

No answer from the man upstairs. God—kill him now. Instead, his cousin interrupted. _"Uh—right here, cuzzo. All safe and sound—what's wrong?" _A beat passed, and less whimsical than his usual speech—_"Are you…okay?" _

"Yeah." The redhead's voice tensed, quick to respond before Nightwing could read their conversation. "_You_…okay?"

"_Um. Yeah. Saw you this morning, remember? Almost set your house on fire—heyyyy! That's not funny—Diiiick, Tim's breaking protocol—"_

"Bart. Dude—" A smile worked its way across Wally's face. He squeezed the phone tightly and grinned. "Aunt Iris is having the babies."

"_**What?! Seriously?! Ohmigod—**_" There was a _'shhhhhh' _in the background (making Wally roll his eyes) and suddenly Impulse's voices softened. _"That is so _crash_! Ohmigod, my Dad's going to be born—" _

_**WOOSH. **_

Silence. Wally's pulse tightened. "Bart? Bart—"

"_IMPULSE!" _

Wally dropped the phone and ran.

**xxx**

**Author's Note: **

You may not believe this if you read Reverse, but I had Zoom planned for this story way before the series ended, ahaha. I can tell you now that it is _not_ Wally as Zoom. (: But I do recommend checking the story out, and I hope you like this one so far! As always, reviews would be nice!


	7. Battle, Zoom, Responsibility, Makeup

**Chapter 7: **Battle, Zoom, Responsibility, Makeup

The mission involved a new product produced by LexCorp. The concern was that Luthor was creating mechanical limbs acting as secondary weapons that would eventually replace the League. Recent findings in the last battle revealed the mechanical arms and legs had traces of kryptonite as a power source. Alpha's job was to infiltrate the main facility in Metropolis, retrieve the ample amount of green kryptonite, and bring it back to the Watchtower to lock up deep in a lead vault.

In the beginning, the mission had gone smoothly. Robin, Impulse, Wonder Girl, and Batgirl were instructed to 'tour' the facility with the guide and some visiting college students. Nightwing—knowing by now Luthor probably had his face on a wanted poster in every room of the building—was to hang back in the Bioship, where they would load the contents once everything was found. He instructed them to be wary and downloaded blueprints of the building onto both Babs's and Tim's comps.

Everything was going smoothly. The four other members of Alpha were to find all of the 'suspicious' doors the tour guide strictly avoided. All they would show was a false cookie-cutter version of what LexCorp really did.

Then everything went down the toilet.

First off, once Alpha established a good idea of the facility, they were to retreat and come back in later hours to dispose of the kryptonite and all blueprints of their new product. Luthor was reported to be in Bialya on "diplomatic" terms with Queen Bee, and by assumption, that meant his bodyguard was with him. Then, twenty minutes into the tour, Kaldur informed Nightwing of a forwarded phone call.

All external calls were intercepted by the HQ. They had to be deemed important enough before they were forwarded to the intended receiver. (The rule was actually Dick's fault once Artemis and Wally quit the team. Artemis dubbed it when Zatanna and he were stuck in the 'honeymoon phase' all over again when Zee became a League member. Once they were separated, inappropriate calls at _very_ inappropriate times became too lethal of a problem, the team took an embarrassing vote with majority rule.)

Dick let his temper get the better of him, but passed on the call as needed. He'd even muted the call in order to ignore Wally's voice. It wasn't until he heard the scream of—

"_IMPULSE!" _

—that the nineteen-year-old nearly fell out of his chair. He returned to the comm.-link, forced his way through the security cameras of the building, and spiked the microphone high. "What's going on? _Details?_"

"_Unexpected third party," _Babs responded back quickly. _"Just tackled Impulse to the ground—speculation of the source soon to come." _

Security footage showed the battlefield—a lab on the fourth floor, where the tour guide and civilians shrieked in surprise; evidence that meant this wasn't Luthor's doing. Tables were knocked over and skewed, with a yellow figure that bulleted through the laboratory. Too fast to see. Nightwing frowned.

"Computer: replay the footage in super slow motion. Slow enough to capture the Flash."

The screen above him changed and zoomed in on the _unexpected-third party. _What on _earth_?

A man in a golden yellow suit, with scarlet red wing-tipped ears and matching red boots. _Like the Flash. _

What the hell.

"_Batgirl to Nightwing: looks like our opponent is…is a __**speedster.**_"

"Seeing the culprit right now." Dick pushed away from his seat and ordered the ship to create a deployment hatch. He scaled down to the rooftop and shot toward the door that led down a staircase. "Engage in battle. Immobilize the third-party _perp_ and whatever you do—make sure he does not leave the—"

A yellow blur zipped up the stairs and shot past Nightwing with Impulse hauled over his shoulder. Dick shouted in surprise as the man trampled over him—then crashed down the flight of stairs. His face hit the cement wall, nose smashing in the coldness. Nightwing tumbled down rapidly. He clawed a step and dragged himself to his feet, then looked to the open door.

"—_vicinity_." The teen scowled. "Relocate on the rooftop!"

Before the villain got away. Nightwing sprinted back up the stairs, rotating aches and bruises out of his joints and pulled out three batarangs. As soon as he reached their new destination, he was met with the sight of Wonder Girl's lasso at the man's feet.

A relieved grin was sported across the blonde's face, and she tightened the grip on her rope before hovering in the sky.

Impulse's face stared at the teen leader upside down, eyebrows arched in confusion and feet dangling. "I'm not sure how I feel about being a teenage-hostage. This is like—super retro."

"Sorry, Imp—" Robin's voice appeared from behind Nightwing. "That's kind of part of the job." Both Batgirl and he appeared from the entrance Dick had taken.

"Tie him up, Wonder Girl!" Nightwing's eyes narrowed at the man, getting a better inspection in a way that the computer couldn't. Yellow-Flash's face was long and narrow—with the flesh beneath his cowl obscenely pale. His teeth were as yellow as his teeth, with the lightning bolt on his chest that was strategically shaped like a _'Z.' _

Yellow-Flash's lips twitched as Cassie spun around him. The rope climbed up to his knees with pleasant success—

—then he electrocuted Wonder Girl.

"_AH!_"

The Yellow-Perp yanked the rope roughly with his good hand, and suddenly his entire body flickered with a white light. Electricity spiked above the line, incinerating it to ashes, and zapped Wonder Girl. She cried out in pain, letting go of her weapon instantly. Bart too, wriggled and screamed.

"Batgirl!" Nightwing shouted. "Robin!" They took three separate corners of the rooftop. Dick whipped out three explosive batarang and threw them at the Yellow-Flash's feet. Batgirl had to the other side of the rooftop and extended a grappling hook toward the fallen Cassie.

The batarangs beneath the man's feet ticked with a high-pitched beep before exploding—and the yellow speedster zipped away before the ground beneath his feet disappeared. Tim landed a hit on the man with the metal bo staff, then aimed for Yellow-Flash's feet. Dick charged after the current boy wonder, eskrima sticks in hand, and aimed for the other end of him.

The Yellow-Flash jumped and bared his teeth with a malevolent scowl. "I would have _thought_ that getting a little _speedster brat_ would have been _easier_ than this."

"Sorry—" Nightwing smirked and jutted a stick into the man's torso. "He's not for sale."

"Nope," Robin agreed, and this time he managed to trip the man with a harsh blow. "Not even housebroken yet."

The Yellow Flash fell to the ground with an _oof_! and quickly, Bart wriggled out of the grip to dart behind both Boy Wonders. Dick pinned the man and pulled out handcuffs. He jutted a hand into the man's neck to knock him out.

At the other end of the vicinity, Babs retrieved Cassie. Both stared at the hole that had been made to the LexCorp vicinity with wry looks. Batgirl looked up to Nightwing especially. "How necessary was it to blow up the place?"

"I'll do the paperwork for it later." Dick smiled back warily, his hands still secure over the fallen speedster's back. He turned over to Bart, who looked anything but distraught, and bit the inside of his mouth. "You okay?"

Green eyes blinked by the dozen. _Just like Wally's used to. _The young speedster fidgeted, nodding skeptically. He dropped to his knees and cupped the man's face without shame. "Yeah, I-I just—what the…heck is this guy doing running around thinking he's the _Flash?_"

"Watch your mouth, _boy_." The Man's eyes snapped open. "My name is _Zoom._"

"_Whoa!_" Suddenly Dick went hurdling through the air and rammed his head across a ledge.

Zoom stood to his feet and tackled Bart to the ground, large hands wrapping around the smaller speedster's neck in a bind. Impulse shouted out in pain, the back of his head smashing into the remnants of the cement roof. Cassie and Barbara bolted, all crying out his name the moment the man reanimated.

Tim lunged first, bo staff quickly reassembled. He raised his arms to strike— but Zoom was faster.

The Yellow Speedster grabbed Robin by the shirt and threw him off the roof. "_Sorry. _No use for you."

No. Nononono. "_NO!_" Without even thinking, Dick rushed after his fallen partner, the blood thumping in his head. Fear wiped out every other emotion in him, and his stomach collided with the ledge. "_ROBIN_!"

Another blur caught his sight at ground level. Robin's fallen face pulled Nightwing's attention as the younger teen searched his pockets for his grappling hook.

_Wally_ shot through the side of the roof, quickly grabbed the Boy Wonder before he could make a final descent, and scaled up the building. He landed evenly right beside the teen leader, with a scowl on his face and gaze locked at their new villain. _What the hell. _

Babs and Cassie had gone back to fighting the man—one with heavy fists and the other with tools from her utility belt.

Dick could hardly get over his stun, watching his best friend _right in front of him _at a _battle site._ Wally's demeanor suddenly broke, gaze falling to the teen he'd just saved. He was dressed in a shirt, jeans, and thankfully some tennis shoes for the occasion, like he'd just run here out of nowhere.

"You alright?" the redhead asked.

Robin twitched, pushing the glasses back to his face. "Yeah—I'm. Falling on the side of a building. No big deal."

Had he been in a better mood, Dick probably would have smirked. Instead, he had to force himself to get over the stun that his moron of a best friend had showed up out of nowhere and that Zoom still had Bart in a chokehold against the ground.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Nightwing's gaze narrowed under his mask. Green eyes looked back him, eyebrows twitching. "How did you get here so fast?"

"A thankyoufor saving Robin wouldn't hurt you." Wally's tone made him wince. Apparently how they'd left each other was at the forefront of his mind too. "I'm not—_completely_ useless." The demeanor broke, red eyebrows pinching together. "I can run."

Dick's jaw tightened. "Can you now?"

Suddenly Babs shouted, Zoom zapping her with electricity as he'd done with Cassie. Wonder Girl caught her as she went flying through the air, and both of them landed at the building across from them. _Lightning powers. Super strength. Speed. _Zoom wasn't short of superpowers here. Wally sprinted across the length of the roof—_quickly_—and collided straight into Zoom.

The Man in Yellow toppled over faster than he'd had with the other members of Alpha. Bart gasped for air, pushing to his feet again. He shouted his cousin's name. "_Wally?" _

"_Flash_ asked me to check on you. _Not like this_," the redhead shouted. He rammed a fist into Zoom's jaw and speedily ducked as the man lunged at him. He cried out when Zoom slammed him into the ground.

"You're _useless," _Zoom spat. "Why would I need an imposter like _you_ when I have my _grandson_ over here?"

"_Grandson?" _Bart darted back into the fight as soon as he saw his fallen cousin. Better prepared, he punched the much taller speedster in the face—three times, four times, ten times—and pushed him back. "You. Are _not. _My _Grandpa!_"

Zoom plucked him from the ground like a flower. Bart shouted at the top of his lungs in protest, and the man only sneered. "He's got you _brainwashed, _doesn't he? But you'd make a better _Thawne_ than you ever would an Allen." He crushed Bart's wrist and the speedster cringed. "I like the name _Kid Zoom_, don't you?"

At that moment, Dick charged back into battle as Zoom raised a hand to strike the small boy. Nightwing jabbed an electrified batarang into the man's side and tackled Bart out of his grip. Both boys toppled over the ground as Zoom shouted in pain.

The Yellow Speedster ripped the weapon out of his ribcage. He scowled angrily, gaze going to the ex-Boy Wonder and the team's new speedster. The man rushed over before either boy could blink—and Nightwing pivoted his footing to throw the boy across from him. Zoom's hand clawed into ebony hair and he rammed Dick's head into the ground so hard that the teen saw stars.

"_Boy_," Zoom scowled, "you have _no _idea who you're dealing with."

Nightwing choked in pain. He felt wet warmth at his head as a gash throbbed over his forehead, and saw red in his vision. Gritting his teeth, he spat remnants of dirt and saliva into the man's face. "Sorry," he struggled to say, "but you _don't_ mess with my team."

Offending the bad guy was always fun. Because they were _always_ stupid enough to get _mad._ Zoom's scowl stretched, with his eyebrows bulging beneath the yellow cowl. He raised a hand, electricity crackling at his flesh. Dick squeezed his eyes shut.

Suddenly the large speedster was knocked out of the way—all the way to the other end of the rooftop. Dick gasped for air, feeling the oxygen return to his lungs. From the corner of his eye, he saw Wally pick the disoriented Bart from the ground. The smaller speedster thanked him quietly.

Then, Wally turned to him.

Emerald green eyes looked down to him from above, with a line of blood cascading down the redhead's lips. Something fluttered across the redhead's gaze—something Dick felt his mind become too hazy to decipher. _Concern, maybe? _No—that wasn't possible. Was mad at him.

The teen leader forced himself to push to his feet, and felt a warm hand press against his back. Wally crouched down to eye level and scrutinized him from head-to-toe. He opened his mouth and said something.

"What?" Dick murmured.

"I said you're bleeding." Again, Wally's eyes flickered. He bit the inside of his mouth, putting as little distance between them as his hands cupped either side of Nightwing's face. From the corner of the teen's eyes, he could see the rest of his team gathering around him and—Wally thumbed his face, to keep his attention. His gaze softened. "You saved my cousin."

Dick twitched. "You saved my little brother."

"Don't think we can carry on with the mission anymore," Babs interrupted. She fell to her knees beside her partner and whipped out gauze before tying it firmly around his head. Taking over as second-in-command, she looked to her teammates (and Wally) and grimaced. "We should get you to the infirmary at the Watchtower. It looks bad."

"I'm fine—"

"Dick," she hissed—which cut off any of the macho, masculine things he intended to say to reassure her. Instead, Babs glared at him with an intensity after years of hanging out with Artemis (and because of Babs herself, really), "if you give me that bullshit, I'm cutting your head off."

Silence.

Dick groaned softly and pressed a hand to his face. He felt someone else's fingers tangle against his other hand.

"Drama queen," Wally grumbled.

**xxx**

The mission was a failure. They took the Bioship all the way back to the Watchtower and the entire ride, Wally refused to let go of his best friend's hand. (Which was fine—the redhead was sure Dick was pretty much out of it. He'd seen the lunges, the way Nightwing threw himself into the line of fire to protect Bart. And he couldn't have been more _grateful_.)

It was odd. Batgirl took it upon herself to navigate the ship back to the headquarters. Wally found himself sitting in the old seat he used to have when he was still doing missions—with Bart at the other end, sitting between Cassie and Tim. They stared at the pair weirdly, and the old speedster pretended not to notice as Nightwing's head rested carefully in his lap.

The battle replayed over and over in Wally's mind, with a sour taste lodged in the back of his throat. He'd rushed to the first zeta-beam tube he could find in Central City, wound up on the other side of Metrapolis, and ran over at his top speed to find his cousin. The moment he heard the panic over Bart's cell phone, Wally didn't _care_ anymore. The fear slapped him hard in the face. Just—for some reason, the last thing to ever cross Wally's mind was what lengths his best friend would go to protect Bart.

Well—Dick wasn't stupid enough to take his anger out on _Bart_ because of _him. _

That was obvious. Wally tried not to jump in surprise as he heard his best friend's soft groan beneath him, and the curl of gloved fingers over his bare (_dead_) hand.

The anxiety was already building in his stomach, waiting for the next spasm. But—_screw it. _

Swallowing hard, he pushed the thought to the furthest corner of his mind. It didn't matter what happened to _him_ now. All that mattered was _Dick. _

An hour later, Nightwing got away with a mild concussion (with too much blood that oozed into his hair) and minor stitches, while the rest of his team seemed better off. Even heavily medicated, the teen pushed off the medical bed and somehow managed to stare at Wally's worried face soberly.

Being in civvies for the first time at the Justice League headquarters made WAlly feel naked. Out of place. The team was inspected for radioactive exposure, head trauma, and other injuries that may have immobilized them during the mission. Bart's wrist was sprained from when Zoom supposedly grabbed him, but he assured everyone he would be healed by the end of tomorrow.

The kid pulled Wally aside before the debriefing could happen. He looked up with big eyes beneath his yellow visor and held a serious demeanor that nearly put Batman to shame. "Are you okay?"

"I—yeah." They stood at a hallway outside the main-ops room, where very few people passed by. This much, Wally knew—once business was being conducted by the league, they wanted as few people to interrupt as possible. He swallowed hard, knowing Bart's gaze was staring straight at his fear. Quickly the redhead shook his head, pushing away all of the terrifying thoughts, and forced a smile. "I'm okay."

Only, he used his speed. Fast.

Bart didn't believe him for a minute. He placed a hand over Wally's, brown eyebrows contorting together, and stared at him. "Can you feel that?"

_No. _"I can't. You _know that._" He just didn't know that the numbness spread to Wally's elbow. Shaking his head, Wally nudged his head toward the entrance to the Main-Ops room where everyone from Alpha was staring at them. "Look. Right now, that's not the problem. You should get debriefed, and then I'll take you to the hospital. The twins, remember?"

Fortunately that thought grasped the younger speedster's attention immediately. Bart's eyes perked up to him curiously, then he smiled. Hopefully he forgot everything for now. "Yeah. Twins. Haha—_crash._"

Without even thinking, Wally entered the room with his cousin. The team had taken a hard beating, from what Wally imagined. Three different screens were projected, with profiles of the _Zoom_ guy projected ominously. Wally hadn't even known what the man's name was up until ten minutes ago.

Kaldur spared him a look—both surprised and cautious. Wally stood taller—hoping he looked less out of place than he felt. They all waited as the seemingly-normal Nightwing debriefed the mission.

"Obviously we got sidetracked," Dick announced, his voice in a soft murmur. He gestured to the projections of Zoom. "This guy. Zoom. He tried to kidnap Bart mid-mission and we went to rescue him. The damaged caused to the LexCorp building, however, is still evident. If anything—for now, I'd say we've delayed their manufacturing of the mechanical limbs. We'll have to send in a different roster of people to take care of the green kryptonite. Ones they won't recognize."

"Very well then. We will shelve the mission for now." Kaldur nodded. Projections of the LexCorp building disappeared, and they focused on the Man in Yellow. Aqualad's eyes fell to Bart and Wally. The latter, especially. "As we've seen, this man has super speed powers. And from the Bioship's cameras—lightning, as well. And reality warping."

"Reality warping?" Dick cocked his head toward Wally. The redhead felt a chill run up his back.

"That's how he got away." Wally rolled his shoulders and shrugged. "Look, he may have the Flash emblem on his chest, but everyone and their mother know _way_ better than that. I've been Flash's partners for years." He made tick marks with his fingers. "No lightning. No reality-warping."

"So you've never seen this man before?" Batgirl asked. She frowned.

Wally shook his head and bit the inside of his mouth. "The guy just showed up today. Flash told me that…he ripped the emblem off his chest and told him he wasn't a real hero. That he was going after speedsters." At that moment, he turned his head to meet Dick's eyes. "That's why I called."

"Wait—" Bart yanked his arm. Hard. "So is Grandpa—is he okay?" Brown eyebrows pinched together, gaze wide.

God, this kid cared _way _too much. Wally's lips broke into a smile, seeing the tightness as it appeared on Bart's face. "He's fine, Bart. Don't worry." Still, that barely did anything to soothe the boy. Instead, the redhead puffed his chest out and rubbed the back of his head. "Look—if the 'going after speedsters' thing is any consolation…let us handle it. Flash, Impulse, and I will discuss the plan from here. As far as I'm concerned, you don't even need to get your hands dirty."

Because this was ridiculous. It was only hours ago that Flash had reported to him what he'd been through. This _Zoom_ guy appeared out of nowhere, wearing _Uncle B's _suit, with mismatched sickening yellow colors and a malignant grin. He was fast. Wally didn't need another punch to the face to know that—and for whatever reason, he was going after _Bart. _

And called Wally useless.

The redhead's hands curled into fists.

"So what you're saying," Robin started, snapping the redhead out of his ministrations, "is that you're going back in the business again?"

Blink. "What?" Everyone stared at him, either with confusion or suspicious eyebrows. Wally's eyes looked up to Dick in particular, whose mouth parted slightly in surprise. He ran what he'd just said through his mind and shook his head furiously. _God. _This day was already killing him and—he _hated_ getting ultimatums. "No—I. _No._" The look they gave him next made Wally bite his lip. "It's not cold and cut as you _make_ it seem." Lie. "I can turn it on and off as I want." Lie. "Look—I would do _anything_ to protect my family. Even if that meant putting the suit back on and killing myself." _Not lie. _

He looked to the corner of his eye, where Bart swallowed hard and stood taller in his spot. The small brunet tried to look strong and firm—but even that mask, Wally knew by now. The ex-hero reached over and looped an arm around the kid's shoulders.

"He's family," he reaffirmed. Green eyes looked up and gazed hardly at a certain domino mask. His heart thrummed heavily in his chest. "And I do anything for family. Okay?"

No response. From anyone. Wally couldn't help but wonder if lack of contact with his best friend worked both ways—if just like himself, Dick had a hard time with it. Not being able to sleep, having a nagging sensation in his stomach, feeling the urge to call that was immediately slapped away with anger. They stared at each other hard, and even beneath Nightwing's white opaque lenses, Wally knew Dick was debating his words.

"Okay," Dick murmured softly.

The rest of the debriefing went without interruption from Wally. His gaze was fixated on Dick the entire time as his best friend spoke—_taller, stronger, with an authoritative voice_—despite obviously being on heavy medication. Dick's tone was quiet, but commandeering as Kaldur and he addressed each other. Wally debated on leaving, knowing he was not needed—but couldn't.

Today, he could have lost his best friend.

After the debriefing, Wally instructed Bart to go ahead and go home. The brunet had given him a look—but once he realized Wally's attention was fixated on the ex-Boy Wonder, he babbled about nothing and disappeared, arm-in-arm with Cassie. Wally stood by, waiting until Dick finished conversing with Kaldur, and when he went over to assure Robin and Batgirl was okay.

Halfway through conversation, Wally walked up to the trio of bats. Discomfort coiled in his stomach, followed by guilt, and he stood parallel to his best friend. To the guy that stood at the same height, with the same build, and the same air of maturity as himself. _God, they were old. _

Whether or not the mediation was wearing off, the redhead wasn't sure. Dick had always been able to keep a calm demeanor, even under the most stressful of circumstances. _Exhibit A. _He ignored the looks both Batgirl and Robin were giving him—obviously, they knew something had conspired in the past few days. Instead, Wally focused on Nightwing, and the calculated stun that fell across the teen's face.

"Um." Wally stuffed his hands into his pockets and felt his shoulders hunch to his ears. "Could I…walk you home?"

Predictably, neither Babs nor Robin looked okay with the idea. _Of course not._ Family was protective of family. However, Nightwing waved them off, hesitantly nodding before falling into Wally's space. They needed to talk. He turned to the pair with a weak smile and reached to rub his head—before remembering the gauze that was firmly wrapped around it. "I'll be fine. Don't' worry—he doesn't bite."

Right. Taking out the little bat may have been fine—but Wally could be scared for his life when it came to Batgirl. All of Dick's ex-girlfriends were scary. They nodded hesitantly—then disappeared through the first zetabeam tube.

"_**Recognized: Batgirl; B16. Robin; B20." **_

The hum of the transportation device bristled against Wally's skin and whispered in his ears. They waited, until the light faded away from the pair, and designated the coordinates to Bludhaven.

The zeta-beam point from there was the backdoor to an old thrift shop that had been closed down ages ago. Wally had only used it once before—when helping Dick move into his apartment last year. The plan had gone into effect, where Kaldur infiltrated the Light through his Father, and Nightwing was promoted to leader. After that, they rarely had time to see each other.

And still, Wally remembered exactly where the apartment was.

Nightwing pressed a hand to the wall, with the transportation obviously not adjusting well with his head wound. He looked over to Wally warily, then pointed into a random direction. "You just need to follow me this w—"

The ex-speedster—_speedster_ scooped up his best friend. Screw it. Again.

Dick made a soft noise of surprise, eyes widening in accordance, but Wally only shrugged. He readjusted the weight of the boy in his arms—someone he hadn't carried since Dick was fifteen and he was seventeen, and felt the familiar flesh against his own. Green eyes looked down, examining the tired man, and a small smile spread across his lips.

"Don't worry. I know where it is."

It almost felt the same. Wally felt the energy coil in his stomach, and thanked himself for _only_ _owning tennis shoes. _He sprinted down the street, with Dick's weight falling into his own, and felt the hands knotting into the front of his shirt. Through all of the blood and the sweat of the mission, the scent of Dick's aftershave still managed to peek through. Wally loved it.

They ran through the early night of Bludhaven, shooting corners and shortcutting when he could. Wally's fingers tangled beneath taut legs, with armored flesh and utility belts digging into his sweater. Every step he took fell into cadence with his chest, and he only breathed.

When he looked down, he could see Dick staring straight at him—utterly tired, and devastatingly handsome. The smallest smile spread across his lips—for once, at peace. _Stupid Mister Perfect. _

The run only took five minutes. Wally wished he could have stretched it out—to feel every bit of it again, with Dick against him and the smile etched in his mind for the rest of eternity. He climbed up the stairs wordlessly, and only let Dick stand to his feet when they finally reached the door.

For a moment, Dick only stared at him. They must have looked ridiculous—one underdressed speedster, and a battered, overdressed acrobat.

"Um," the teen muttered under his breath. "Thanks." He reached into his utility belt and pulled out a regular set of keys. Wally almost had to laugh.

But instead, he opened the door for Dick as soon as it was unlocked, and held the teen's hand on the way in. The apartment was bare and wooden, with little furniture, hardly any decorations—_no pictures, no anything. _Hardly a home. But for a Boy Wonder that was on his feet and working with the team 24/7, Wally could hardly call himself surprised.

"Do you need anything?" he asked instantly, and they made it to the middle of the living room. "Some food? Water? You don't plan on patrolling later tonight, do you?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Wally—" Dick touched his head, the small smile curling across his lips lazily and started toward the bedroom. "I'll sleep off the drugs and let Alfie dote on me in the morning. I've—I've had worse. You know I have."

_Yeah. _But that _never_ made Wally any less concerned. Without thinking, he reached out and coiled a hand around Dick's own.

A domino mask stared back, with Nightwing's façade, but _Dick Grayson's _tiredness.

Wally's grip tightened and eyes fell to the head wound. _God. _"I'm sorry."

"Wall—"

"_No. _Dick." Pressing a hand to his own face, the redhead couldn't help but close his eyes. Every bit of guilt—every last _bit of it_ from the past five days that felt like eternity since the last time he'd seen his best friend swelled in his stomach and made him feel worse. "I don't think you're a freak. I—I know that you would _never_ use me as a pawn. When I said that, I—I was angry. You're my best friend, Dick."

His eyebrows contorted, gaze narrowing at the teen as the smile on Nightwing's face disappeared.

"I trust you." Wally's hands tangled with Dick's gloved one. "More than anyone. _I trust you._"

Dick's lips pressed together. He gazed at the redhead solemnly and looked down to the hand clasped between Wally's own. Slowly, his fingers curled against Wally's palm. "Apology accepted."

_Really? _The speedster cocked his head up, expression sad.

"I'm sorry too," Dick whispered, and he placed his other hand firm, on Wally's own. There was a scrunch in the other man's expression—one he barely noticed, and he carried on, eyes squeezing shut. "You're not…useless. You're not heartless, Wally. You're—anything but. You care. _A lot. _For your family, for Bart…and I shouldn't have jumped on you so quickly. Not without an explanation."

The guilt in Wally's stomach dropped. He took in a deep breath, everything about the night of their argument coming to the front of his mind, and felt the air squeeze from his lungs. He brought Dick's hand to his face and pressed his lips across the teen's knuckles. "I…want to tell you—so_ badly_, and I just."

Can't. Couldn't. Red eyebrows furrowed together, and the fear billowed in his mind. He looked back up to Dick, to his face in the dimness of the living room lights, and the small bump as darkness contorted around it.

"Can I take you to your room?" he whispered instead. "Let me…help you undress or something. You're hurt. I—just want to make sure you're okay."

It was an odd request, Wally knew. It'd been a long day. Too long. The twins were being born, there was a new _problem_, and…god. He had his best friend back. Dick's expression morphed slightly beneath the mask, lips parted carefully—but he nodded. A sigh of relief fell from Wally's lips.

They entered Dick's room, which looked different from the rest of the apartment. Pictures decorated the walls and the nightstand, with a soft baby blue painted on the walls. A poster of the Flying Graysons was taped to one wall, with the silhouette of acrobats glowing like angels.

The entire walk, their hands remained together. Dick guided him to the bed, with a heavy breath drawing from his lips. Moonlight glowed from the window adjacent from them, falling into the room like a beacon. It glowed against Dick's flesh—marred and gritty from years of this business—_this life._ Dark hair brushed into the teen's face, still caked with blood from lack of time being able to wash it.

Shadows crept across the moonlit wooden floor, revealing two boys that stood parallel to each other. Watched each other. Wally's gaze fell to the various nooks and crannies of the Nightwing suit—to the small belt loops, and the indent beneath the blue-winged bird on his chest.

Dick's hands fell to the belts strapped around his hips as he fell into the mattress. Wally dropped to his knees right in front of him, pressing bare hands over gloved ones. He unwound the belt—gently, until the utility belt could be put aside on the floor—then moved onto the belt with the eskrima sticks. Through red hair, he peered up and saw his best friend stare straight back at him.

Wally's hands melded around Dick's calves and silently, he unzipped both boots and let them fall to the floor. Standing up to his feet, he replaced a hand over Dick's left glove and inched it off his fingers. They stood close together, with Wally's knees against Dick's own, and breath hot against flesh.

All the while, that mask stared at him—white, ethereal, and glowing beneath the moonlight. _Magical. _

Green eyes stared back, stars reflecting in their irises, and watched every part of the Boy Wonder. The curve of his nose. The color of his lips. The contour of that _beautiful, beautiful _face. Wally dropped the glove.

And with no other thought, he kissed his best friend.

His lips pressed against the man across from him, and fingers melded around Dick's sculpted face. Heat radiated in his palms, welcoming and pleasurable as he dug a knee into the mattress, and curled into the edges of ebony hair. With just as much hunger, he felt Dick kiss back, and a burn engulfed his chest—_needy_ and so _welcoming. _

They climbed onto the bed, with Dick's back pressed against the mattress and legs dangling across the surface. Wally deepened their kiss, bodies pressing together until he could feel the ex-Boy Wonder's pulse beneath his own, and he breathed in the scent of Dick's aftershave. Dick nibbled on his bottom lip, begging for entry—for _more. _A bare hand traced down Wally's spine and hiked his shirt up, and the older man shivered as he felt fingers pad his flesh.

The kiss lasted forever, lips meshed together for what felt like eons, and yet _still not enough time_—until they pulled away to breath. Wally's elbows rested on either side of the teen and he gazed upon his best friend—to the flush that worked its way up Dick's neck to his ears.

In that instant, the teen turned his head just slightly and pressed a hand to his own face. Fingers scraped beneath the domino mask, slowly inching it away from the old acrobat's face until all Wally could see were long eyelashes. Gorgeous cerulean blue eyes peered up, and stared straight back into emerald green orbs.

Dick's breath fell hot on Wally's lips. They stared at each other, gazes fixated and never goading.

Pulling up, Wally kicked the sneakers off his feet. Dick's eyes followed him as he pulled off his shirt and threw it to the side, so only bare flesh could be seen. Wally looked back down to the younger boy.

The last gloved hand reached up as the teen raised his head, and revealed the zipper to his uniform. Dick placed a hand over the redhead's and slowly guided it down to his heartbeat.

Wally gave him one more look—careful, with a smile that was matched in the dark.

He kissed the flush down Dick's neck, pressing his lips to the old Boy Wonder's pulse, and carried on with every soft moan.

**xxx**

**Author's Note: **

And there you go! Thank you so much for your support in the past few weeks! I'll be taking a break now to focus on finals next week and in general so I have a breather. Don't know when I'll be back, but I guarantee you'll like it. (: As always, reviews would be nice!


	8. Anxiety, Robin, Direction, Twins

** Chapter 8: **Anxiety, Robin, Direction, Twins

_Pain. Pain. Pain. _

_Pain. Pain. _

_Pain. Pain. Pain, pain, painpain—_

_**Shit. **_

Wally woke up in a fright, doused head to toe in sweat. He gasped for air, green eyes widening three times their size, clutched his dead arm protectively—and waited. His pulse beat harshly at his neck and he forced himself to breathe—to suck in as much air as he could, to alleviate the throbbing in his head. The sight before him was fuzzy, taking several heartbeats before he could see the space of the room. Blood pumped fire beneath his skin.

He waited.

No shock.

Light filtered through the nearby window, beaming through the pastel orange curtains and crept upon the wooden floor. A quiet moan pushed through the silence and the hum of the A/C filled the room until a gush of cold air bristled against his bare flesh.

Looking around, Wally let out the breath he'd been holding and let his body collapse. The form buried in the blankets came to his attention. Followed by his best friend, whose face was buried at his side. The redhead blinked, and slowly he shrunk to observe that sleeping face.

Dick's alabaster flesh glowed evangelically, from his face down to the unconcealed flesh as their shared duvet fell down his back. Ebony hair was thick—messy, sweaty, and still caked with bits of brown and black blood from the festivities before. Wally's eyes traced the scars that marred pale skin, marked by little dents and long fading-red channels that were often hidden beneath dark armor. He brushed away the hair matted against the hero's forehead, and ran a thumb across the most recent bump on the back of Dick's head.

His best friend shivered, face crinkling in discomfort.

Letting out a shallow breath, Wally pushed the hair out of his own eyes. He put distance between them—and watched as the slumbering old acrobat reached over to bury his face in the pillow Wally'd slept on. _Wow. _Wally closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting for sleep to disappear from his system.

Cold air hit him in…_usually unmentionable places_ as he slid out of the bed and tested his feet. His hand fisted the mattress, one leg collapsed beneath him, and he bit back the instinctive pained cry before it could leave his mouth. Steady. Breathe. Steady.

Wally waited until he saw his toes curl into the wooden floor. His dead arm dangled at his side, getting no use unless he forced the effort in his muscles to move it. The speedster sucked in a breath, feeling the beginnings of a migraine surface in his temples, and squeezed his eyes shut. Dead arm, dead leg.

Looks like the _dead leg_ thing was getting permanent though.

Another sigh left his lips and he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Wally plucked the first pair of boxers he could find on the ground and dressed himself. He tested out the fingers of his dead hand, attempting to wiggle them as best he could. Once his hand confirmed he could do the _Princess Wave, _his mind nagged him for coffee and forced the old speedster into the kitchen.

It wasn't that he'd lost all the feeling in his limbs. Yet. The tingle started when he was eighteen, with the tips of his fingers. It was like they'd fallen asleep from a lack of blood flow. Wally managed the 'falling asleep' sensation through his years being inoperative, but the events in the past year had sped up the numbness. Wally could still move his arms and operate all of his body parts. But—wiggling his fingers, curling his hand into fists—it took effort. More, each day, and four times that effort after a spasm. Yet now the tips of his fingers went from falling asleep to lacking sensation at all.

He didn't let it put him down, when his hands curled over Dick's body last night, however. Wally'd pushed it to the back of his mind when every bit of Dick's bare skin was beneath his own, and focused on the good of it all. For last night to work, he let himself pretend he wasn't _Wallace Rudolph West, Slowest Decaying Corpse Ever. _

And—the fact he'd gotten any sleep at all was astonishing.

Because—he thought to himself, glaring at his dead hand as it tried to curl around the coffee pot handle—from this point on, he was a ticking time bomb. Wally had entered the fight with Zoom late, but there was no villain that ever pushed him to full throttle in a matter of seconds. Barry wasn't kidding when he said this guy was killer.

"Dammit." Wally wasn't even looking, when he realized he'd poured scalding hot coffee on his hand instead of a cup. He laid out two mugs and shook the coffee pot. Okay—boiling water. Check. Everything else. _How_ _the_ _hell did you open this thing?_ Actually—who had a coffee machine with a _Whipped Cream Smiley Face_ option?

Dick fucking Grayson. That was who.

The coffee maker probably cost more than Wally's house.

That thought in mind, Wally stopped himself from bursting in a fit of snickers. He started a new brew of coffee before running his hand in cold water and wiped his hands just as the doorbell rang. The apartment seemed smaller than the night before when he'd whisked Nightwing in—and emptier. Dick's room, if he was right, was the only place that had any semblance of _home_.

Yet—then again, Wally thought as he meandered toward the door—this was the kid who could have probably made a home out of the vent system back at the cave if he wanted to.

Tim Drake stared back at him when the redhead answered the door. Dressed in civilian clothing—some long pants and a red jacket that looked easy to maneuver in. He lacked the usual sunglasses that all the Bats seemed intent on wearing—and in one flicker, the surprise showed on his face.

Wally responded by scratching his hip. "Hi. Robin?"

He only knew the teen by name alone—other than yesterday, when he sort of saved the guy. Even Jason Todd, Wally only knew a few short months until the new guy who'd taken on the first Robin's mantle had exploded. And—well. No matter how harshly Dick and he argued, Wally knew better than to bring Todd up in an argument. Tim Drake was tall and gangly—probably in that awkward growth spurt that the redhead was glad he no longer had to deal with. His gaze was sharp—sharper than Dick's had ever been when they were kids. That in itself was pretty disturbing. His smile was precise.

If you could call that a smile. Actually—the look Drake was giving him reminded the redhead he was dressed in his own (questionable) boxers.

"Hi," Tim managed finally, voice full of tentative deadpan.

"It's—he's asleep right now." Wally felt his cheeks bloom red. He stretched the door wide, ignoring the guarded look that the new Boy Wonder instinctively gave him, and made a mental note to answer the door in a sweatshirt next time. "You old enough to drink coffee?"

"I'm fourteen."

"Oh. Then—duh, of course." He unceremoniously shut the door and ushered the teenager to a stool. With his back turned, Wally made an effort to hide his discomfort, then poured the fresh coffee into the cup. "You know how to work the machine?"

"Press the red button for the smiley faces. Green one for blue smiley faces."

"Uh. Kay."

This was more awkward than the time Bart had barged in on him jacking off. And that was _three days ago. _Drake sat contently at the other end of the counter with the coffee mug nestled between his hands. He'd gotten up twice, easily maneuvering the machine to shut it off before it could explode, then to get the half-n-half out of the fridge. Wally appreciated a guy who liked to use half-n-half. More than once, Drake's gaze went to the bedroom where Dick had yet to pop his head out.

When it happened the fourth time while Wally worked the kitchen, he felt the need to point it out. The man, still dressed in only his boxers, leaned across the counter and downed half of his mug. There wasn't much caffeine could do with his high metabolism, but it was a nice, _healthy_ jolt to wake him up. "Yesterday…after the Zoom fiasco, Dick called you his little brother."

For once, the calculative mask broke across Drake's face. He looked over to Wally, surprised, with eyebrows quirked in the air. Suddenly his cheeks glowed a sweet shade of red—which was definitely a contrast from Mister Mean and Scary. Drake looked back up, wary, and sipped the rest of his drink. "We…have a close relationship. I'm an only child. Dick's the closest thing I've ever had to a big brother anyway and—well. Given I inherited the title of Robin from him, I wouldn't have it any other way."

"He speaks highly of you." Wally got the joy out of watching Drake perk again—clearly not used to the compliments. An inch of a smile fell across his face for the first time that morning. "Dick's…not very good about letting people get close to him. Once they do, he gets very attached. Trust me on this. No matter how far you cross the line he's never going to turn his back on you. His loyalty's his best and worst quality." If Dick and Wally himself were anything to go on.

He waited for the young teen to swallow the compliment and wondered if it'd been that difficult back when he was fourteen. Dick and he—essentially—screwed around for most of their childhood. And instead of keeping that as part of their friendship as they got older, there were boundaries that'd been made; ones that had to be forcefully torn away for them to get what they had back. The first day had been hard after Artemis left. Then—after everything with _Blush, _it was like their comfort zones around each other never existed; like there were boundaries that could separate _countries_.

So as of right now, they'd gone from screwing around to screwing. _Go figure. _(Wally was still wondering why his brain hadn't shut down into complete shock just yet.)

"Thanks," Drake—_Tim_ said quietly. The kid was definitely calmer than Bart was. Evidently Mister Perfect got all of the _sane_ people. "So you two made up?"

"What gave you that impression?"

The young teenager gave him another hard look that was definitely worthy of the Boy Wonder. He gestured to Wally as a whole and—

"Oh. Uh. That's—well, that was random. I mean—he and I—that, er. _That_ was random." Heat exploded in the redhead's cheeks and he pulled a knot out of his hair. Wally's gaze narrowed and he ran the night through his head again. "This isn't—we're not—you don't know, I could have slept on the couch."

"Those are his boxers."

"How would you even _know_ that?" For a moment the speedster's voice spiked like he was thirteen again. And in that span of time, the door to Dick's room creaked open—with a groggy Dick who stumbled out of the room and faintly reminded Wally of the morning all those weeks ago, when Dick had looked distraught. He resisted the urge to rush over and make sure his best friend was okay.

Green eyes met blue, and anything Wally was prepared to say disappeared from his mind. He felt the heat simmer in his cheeks until they were smoking.

"So," Tim said between them to break their silence, and a devilish little twinkle gleamed in his eyes. "Who's the booty call?"

Evidently Dick really did have a soft spot for the new guy. A drowsy smile curled across his face and he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He barely said a word, voice clearly still blocked from waking up only moments ago, and yet both Boy Wonders converged on each other. Tim slid off the stool and both teenagers locked themselves in a conversation that was hard to hear.

Wally waited, watching the way Tim seemed to comfortably talk with Dick, and how his best friend managed to do the same. There was a trust there—he hadn't doubted that. Dick shed of his mask as an authoritative leader with the dutiful front and looked to the younger teenager as a responsible mentor—and big brother. There was still tension in his eyes—something Wally decided was probably for he himself—but the way Dick looked to the younger boy was like when they were back at IHOP. Just the mere thought of 'Timmy' made Dick shed layers. Clearly.

He hadn't missed the horrified look Nightwing had yesterday, when Robin was tossed off the side of LexCorp.

Finally, Tim and Dick ceased. Who would have thought that his best friend—that _little __**shit **_Boy Wonder would reach over and ruffle his successor's hair. Tim backed away and observed him carefully.

"So you're alright?"

"I bounce back pretty quickly," Dick assured. He met eyes with Wally, who at that point had finished his coffee and now had a brown mustache with whip cream bits to prove it. The redhead instinctively fidgeted.

"You should go hang out with Bart. See if that little spaz ball got himself into trouble." Wally waved his hand idly to catch both boys' attention. "Keep the tradition alive. You know, like your _bro_ and me."

"Yeah." Tim's lips pursed and he crossed his arms, the subtle amusement coming to his face. "But I think we have a simpler relationship."

_Ain't that the truth. _

Had it been Bart that said it, Wally probably would have threatened to kick the kid out of his house. Then there would have been a preceding chase where he'd get the little brat into a headlock. Instead, Dick offered a wary, furtive glance that let Wally know there was something on his mind, and they said their goodbyes. Tim glanced toward Wally's direction—and his lack of clothes, making the speedster feel out of place all over _again_, before he left. Dick's eyes remained on his successor until the door _clicked_ shut, and Tim was gone.

After that, they were alone. Wally quickly reached for clean mug and poured the last bit of coffee for his best friend. He placed it on the counter for Dick.

An ebony eyebrow arched in the air with amusement. "You figured out how to get the smiley faces working?"

"Tim had to show me." Wally reached over for the carton of half-n-half, which by now had been gulped dry. He couldn't help but wince. Dick grimaced as the teen tried to sit down. Wally hoped he wasn't red head to toe. "You're okay, right? Your head?"

There was a twitch. Dick, just like Tim, downed part of the drink and held the coffee mug in a similar way. Wally bit back a smile. Instead, the teen looked back to him and knotted a hand in his hair with a grimace. "Head…pounding. Nothing tragic though. I'll manage. God, I need a shower."

"Great." Gulp. "And…the rest of you?"

That managed to get a puzzled look. Wally pretended Dick wasn't sitting across him, wearing _his_ red boxers. Or the fact they drooped so low that he could see tufts of dark hair poke out. Dick's nose wrinkled. He pushed the hair out of his face and snorted. "I'll manage, Wally."

"O…Okay." Though Wally couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't done it right last night. Most of it was a blur anyway—an intensely hot blur, that probably wasn't appropriate for someone that was in a concussive state. There was still the way Dick looked at him—watching his every move with a tight gaze and a smile that wouldn't reach his eyes.

Oh shit.

"That…was your first time, wasn't it?" The gears in Wally's brain rusted over. He shifted between his feet, feeling the numbness in his dead leg, and stared at the teen dumbly. _Gears. Destroyed. Not moving anymore. Oh, __**god. **_"I'm the biggest jerk in the world."

"Wally—"

"Oh my god." The redhead pressed a hand to his face and buzzed on his feet. He darted toward the door—then the kitchen—then the fridge—then the couch—then—stopped. "I should have gotten you flowers. And candles. God, and you were _bloody_—did we even use lube? Oh my god. Biggest Jerk. In the world."

"_Wally._" Dick slapped him over the head.

"Ow!"

"You think I would be dumb enough to wait all this time so I could lose my virginity to you?" Dick shut his eyes grumpily, voice falling into irritable vibrato. He rubbed his temples and shook his head. "Please. Don't flatter yourself."

Ouch. Wally blinked and stared at the teen in front of him. He twitched. "It…was good for you at least, right?"

"What?" the teen fidgeted, looking at him with a little more energy. Gaze softening, Dick flushed an odd shade of red and looked everywhere but his best friend's eyes. "Of course. I mean. Y-yeah, I guess. You?"

Well. "Yeah." Wally felt himself blush from head to toe. He tapped his fingers on the marble counter. "I didn't know you could, uh. D-Do that thing with your tongue."

"You noticed?" Oh. So Dick was definitely aware of everything that had gone one last night. A crooked smirk crossed his face and he rubbed his neck. "Do you…always…vibrate?"

Blink. "Did I?" Blink, blink. Wally looked everywhere but the teen's face. "Don't think I ever did. I mean, Arty never—" Oh shit. He made himself stop talking—thinking, before that thought could be completed in his mind. Her name hit him like cold water—and everything he'd talked about with Aunt Iris came back to mind. About…moving on, about _not being able to_, and—

Oh, god.

Even the look Dick gave him seemed to sober him up a bit. The teen across from him held an odd look—one that Wally couldn't really place.

He felt his heart drop into his stomach, then leaned back from the counter top. Suddenly his mind whirred around the events that lead from Point A to Point B. And he didn't like what he was seeing. Just yesterday, he was talking about his plans of _engagement_ with his girlfriend of five years. Just a few _weeks_ ago, they'd broken up.

Oh _god. _

The redhead pressed a hand to his face, a strained sigh coming from his lips, and curled his other hand into a fist.

Silence. He couldn't figure out what the hell to say.

"Wally?" Dick asked after what felt like an eternity. It made Wally's pulse heighten.

"This…" Red eyebrows pinched together painfully. "This was a onetime thing, right? You and me?"

No response. Looking between his fingers, he saw the look the ex-Boy Wonder gave him—calculative, and very much Batman-like. It radiated with the cautiousness that Dick had spared him through the entire morning, and seemed to pack twice the punch, with several layers that had taken the redhead _years_ to unravel when they were younger. Wally could barely meet those eyes.

"Didn't think otherwise," the teen finally whispered. He rubbed his head again.

"G…Good," Wally sputtered, and suddenly he found interest in the type of material his (Dick's) boxers were made of. He forced himself to look the other way, shoulders hunching to his ears and, went about the kitchen, and scratched his head. "You—keep doing that. Rubbing your head. Any aspirin?'

"Leftmost cabinet, bottom shelf."

"Okay." He did just that and pulled the small container off the shelf, then went through the sink to draw water. Without thinking, Wally forced himself to look up into hesitant orbs of his _best_ friend in the world and still couldn't help but feel like the scum at the bottom of someone's shoe.

Dick hadn't moved from his spot since he sat down. His gaze was blocked, ebony eyebrows pinched together thoughtfully, and hand around his mug. Wally had trouble relating the image of this man—tall, broad, handsome, and every bit as loyal as he'd told Tim Drake—to the little eleven-year-old boy he met nearly eight years ago. And then—well, he could. Which made him feel worse than scum.

"You…really okay?" the redhead asked weakly, nearly begging for an answer. He placed the cup of water on the counter, then exited the kitchen to meet the younger boy, and placed a hand over Dick's, with the other one reaching up to push the hair out of Dick's face.

His numb fingers cracked—and suddenly locked together before he could. Wally spared that hand a mournful look before pulling away altogether, to put both hands behind his back.

All the while, Dick looked to him tiresomely. His brow twitched and lips broke into a frown, then he yanked the cup of water and aspirin toward himself. "I'm fine."

"Then—"

"Don't treat me like I'm a _kid_ in all of this, Wally." Dick's voice heightened tightly, causing the redhead to cringe once more. "I had just as much to do with it as you did last night. _Trust me._ You didn't go Mister Bad Touch on me. I'm _nineteen_, for god's sake."

Flinch. Worse than being worse than scum. Wally pulled away reluctanlty, with his hands hooked together behind him. His jaw tightened, gaze narrowing at the young teen, and he held his breath. "Yeah, but…I'm still your best friend, god willing." Green eyes flickered pleadingly and he raised a hand—his _good_ hand to melt into the contour of his best friend's face. "It's my job to make sure you're okay. And…to be there, when you're not okay."

The teen's eyes followed him cautiously.

"C'mon," Wally's voice strained. "Please?"

He waited to see if Dick would react to him. Long eyelashes fell, gaze disappearing for just a moment. The hero seethed as he readjusted in his seat, and his fingers brushed against the redhead's own as he grabbed Wally's hand. Their touches tingled. "This…may be a one time thing for us—" Wally winced. "—but. If it's just a meaningless _fling_, then why are you so worried about it? About us?"

Dick pushed his hand away and scooted just slightly to the left of the redhead to put distance between them.

"It's…you and me, Wally. But I—we have too much back story. You _know_ that. So…what would you call this? _Is_ there something that's a _this_ between us?"

Oh.

Uh.

He put up that _'Don't-Give-Me-Shit' _face that made Wally squirm.

"I…I mean…" The redhead scratched an itch and felt the thoughts stand still in his head. The mole on his toe was less nerve-racking than this. Hell—_anything_ was less nerve-racking. "Th…there isn't exactly—" How was he supposed to answer that? The path from Point A to Point B was fuzzy. Incredibly fuzzy. The irrevocable tension between them declared that _'no' _wasn't the right answer.

And Dick looked at him in a new way—one that Wally would have killed for when they were younger. The hidden layer in his gaze that put things off—like that kiss they'd shared all those years ago after stopping some dumb college kids. He was dating Artemis, Robin was dating Zatanna. It wasn't the right time. Except for now—like, when he'd described to Aunt Iris before he took her to the hospital—

Oh shit.

Hospital.

"_Oh_," Wally said loudly, and his eyes doubled twice their usual size. "Oh no—oh, _crap._"

Dick jumped in surprise as Wally burst through the room—and stood to his feet. "Dude—?"

Wally yanked him by the arm toward the bedroom. "Comewithme."

**xxx**

He'd woken up this morning to an empty bed. That was a slap in the face. Waking up again to an empty apartment, finding Wally on the couch again—probably would have hurt. When he managed to stand on his feet (which wasn't _terribly _hard, but the beating he took yesterday coupled with a few rounds of sex made his entire body sore), Dick found their clothes strewn across the ground and a pair of red boxers that Dick knew for sure wasn't his own and saw both Tim and Wally in the kitchen—he had a little more hope.

Wally declared everything that happened last night was a one-time thing. Second slap to the face. However—given how Dick's life worked and the mechanics behind it, he forced himself not to care. Even if it did hurt. A lot.

His heart drowned in misery, with the third and final slap to the face:

"Dammit." Wally grumbled as they stepped out of the zeta-beam point in Central City. He pushed a hand through damp hair, having showered and borrowed a spare change of Dick's clothes before they took the trip. Eying the busy street with a troubled look, Wally turned back to the confused teen. "We'll have to walk back to my parents' place and pick up my mom's car, I think. She and dad probably carpooled to get to the hospital. We came during rush hour."

Dick scratched his own head in confusion, a frown fumbling across his lips. "Wouldn't it be easier if we just ran there?"

The look Wally gave him next nearly knocked him off his feet. Green eyes stared at him peculiarly as though he'd grown a third eye, lips tightening into a straight line before he shook his head. "You're not serious, are you?"

The teen felt irritation coil in his stomach. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because that's—" The redhead fidgeted and he shook his head dutifully. "It's. Never mind."

"What do you mean by—?"

"C'mon." For a moment it seemed as though Wally's face had morphed with fear. Instead, the elder man fumbled between both his feet and yanked Dick by the hand down an alleyway. "My house is about two blocks for here. I told the 'rents we'd show up ASAP. The babies are definitely born."

—that. Dick's brain stopped short and he stared at the hand that had a loose grip around his wrist as they ran. The hold was cold and stiff, easy for him to get out of as needed. As Wally "ran" at a human pace, he faltered on his left foot before running on his right.

That wasn't how Kid Flash ran.

The teen blinked, attention locked on that particular fact. Before he could vocalize this ministration, Dick felt himself being dragged further. One wouldn't guess that Wally actually remembered how to run at a human pace, dodging people as he did so. They made it to the West Residence in a matter of minutes.

Dick walked through the house while Wally searched the kitchen drawers for his mother's car keys. Walls were decorated with the family's pictures—from Wally as a little baby all the way to his high school graduation, which felt like eons ago. On the table next to the couch was a loving picture of Artemis and Wally, kissing and embracing after Central City High's Senior Prom. In an adjacent frame was a picture of Wally and himself.

Right after they'd met, when Kid Flash was dumb enough to run into a wall. More than once. Two goofy adolescent boys stared back at him, with Kid Flash's nose having been readjusted with medical tape. Their smiles stretched from cheek-to-cheek, with the goofy laughter echoing in the nineteen-year-old's ears.

Wally came out of the kitchen, dangling a set of keys with a miniature mug that said _'World's Best Mom' _in cursive.

He stared at Dick oddly. "You stalking my childhood?"

"Your parents have a photo of me and you together?" Dick gestured to the little eleven-year-old and thirteen-year-old boys in the picture. He fumbled with the frame, feeling a chin rest over his shoulder before Wally snatched it out of his hand.

"Well—yeah, man." Wally eyed him with amusement and set the photo down. "They adore you as much as they adore Artemis. Apparently you _instilled responsibility _and_ common sense_ into me or something. Whatever—they didn't realize you were mildly psychotic."

"Says the guy that willingly got _struck by lightning._" A smirk curled across Dick's lips and he shot the guy a wry look. A sudden flicker of doubt flashed across his best friend's face—one that would have been too quick see if he didn't know the guy so well. Dick searched for the apprehension that suddenly disappeared. Wally's personality had been disjointed all morning. Twitchy.

_For obvious reasons._ Dick had asked a question back at his apartment and since then, Wally was using this as a lame excuse to avoid the question. Pushing the thought away, the redhead placed distance between them and walked toward the garage. (Dick internally groaned—he couldn't remember the last time he'd been at the West Household, but he remembered everything as though they'd been here yesterday.)

"Um," Wally started quietly as he opened the door, "Thanks. For coming with me, I mean."

"You threw me into the bathroom. Then shouted _twins_ at the top of your lungs before shutting the door."

"I'm really sentimental, aren't I?" The previous look wiped away from the redhead's face, replaced by a nervous smirk.

"Maybe." Dick wasn't sure what he expected to see when they entered a garage—probably anything but a dapper Volkswagen Beetle. He twitched as Wally, unfazed, hopped into the car and started the engine—then sat in the passenger's seat, hoping the odd look on his face wasn't too obvious. Admittedly, _Wally West_ and _Cars_ still wasn't a sentence he was used to. Had he ever mentioned that at the Watchtower, he was convinced it would conjure a few laughs.

A minute passed. Dick snapped out of his thoughts as he realized nothing had been said—and noticed Wally staring intently at his hand as it awkwardly clinched the steering wheel. "You…okay?"

"What?" Wally responded roughly, voice loud. Dick flinched. "Yeah—I—" The redhead stuffed the said hand to the ground and focused on his other one. "I'm good."

The ex-Boy Wonder's followed down the length of Wally's hidden arm and he frowned suspiciously. "You sure?"

"_Yeah._" Wally shook his head. "Fine. Seriously."

"O…kay."

This entire morning could have started better. The discomfort had been bubbling in his stomach since waking up without another person beside him. _The guy that he…_ A voice nagged him at the back of his mind, telling him to get out. _Now. _It'd gone from an interesting night—Wally, saving Tim, carrying _him_ home, apologizing…_kissing_—to Dick sitting next to a guy he was hopelessly in love with and doing the exact opposite. Tim hadn't been enthusiastic about finding Wally in the apartment when he came over.

However, given how the younger teen had been doting on him in the past week, Dick knew he should have seen it coming. He gave Dick a hard look that usually confirmed the first Robin had gone insane. Which—in their business, happened often.

Without putting forth effort, the teen found himself analyzing every last bit of Wally's behavior since his breakup with Artemis. Wally's personality as of late had been hard to define—which, Dick knew by now, was why it was so disturbing.

Wally'd been cranky, the moment they set eyes on each other on the first day.

He'd been chipper in the morning, after knocking out on the couch and as far away from his bed as possible—with an _excuse. _

Then a week without contact—with the tagline, _"I wanted to be someone other than Wally West for the night." _

Clubbing. Wanting to meet a new girl.

Running away.

Because—despite how badly that argument had ended, Dick knew that Wally was hiding something. It'd been like the redhead had said earlier, back in Bludhaven—they were best friends. Best friends stood by each other to make sure they were okay—and to be there when they weren't.

What had it been—that Wally had told him last night?

Dick pushed through his own hair. Glancing the redhead's way he saw the somber look in emerald green eyes and a mask of worry that threw out everything else. They went the entire ride without saying a word to each other. Right now, Wally wasn't even trying to hide his discomfort. Or—Dick just knew how to read his best friend. _Things like that were mutual. _

They pulled into a parking garage near the hospital. Wally stopped the car, unbuckled his seat belt and looked over to him thoughtfully. "Think we have time to run to the gift shop?"

"_You. _Asking about time." Though the look Wally gave him next only made Dick cross his arms. He mimicked the speedster's—_ex_-speedster's motions and pulled him out of the car. "So the twins are born?"

Wally clicked the beeper to his car keys and spared him one more look. This one teemed in confusion. "Well—yeah. Didn't you hear me on the phone with B yesterday?"

"No." Dick's expression tightened cautiously and he frowned. "Despite what you think, I don't monitor your every move. It's a violation of your privacy and our friendship."

"Oh." The redhead blinked, falling silent in that moment. "You know, I meant what I said last night." His face twisted reluctantly and he tried for a smile, awkwardly running a hand through his hair. "I mean—uh, _before_ everything. The apology and stuff. I—I trust you. A lot."

"I…" Dick bit his lip. "Thanks."

His best friend offered a smile to alleviate his worry for the rest of the day. They stopped quickly by the gift shop, where Wally opted for two teddy bears dressed in red—with letters stitched into them that said, _Baby's First Flash_ and they made their way to the maternity wing to greet the rest of the family. Dick hadn't been sure what he was expecting—

The moment they stepped out of the elevator into the waiting room, both Rudy West and Jay Garrick greeted them with smiles. Wally's mouth split into a happy grin that was usually reserved for his family and whipped out both teddy bears.

"A boy and a girl," Rudy confirmed.

"No surprise there. _Spoilers._" Wally snickered and eyed Jay mischievously. "Bart can't keep his mouth shut. Not on the little things."

Rudy, the good man he was, gave his son a hearty look and shook his head. "We pretend to be surprised anyway."

"You know it." The redhead laughed again and started down the hall with an eager look akin to a child's. His smile stretched from cheek to cheek and—he even jumped, with excitement. "Can I go see them?"

"Your mother and Joan are already in the room, son." Jay patted him on the back good-naturedly and jerked his head in the designated direction. "They'll be happy to see you."

"Good." And in an instant, the young adult turned his head to meet eyes with his best friend. Dick, who'd kept his mouth shut through the immediate exchange, blinked as Wally wrapped a hand around his wrist once again and began dragging him toward the room. "C'mon."

"I'm—coming." Dick fidgeted, wriggling his hand out of the speedster's grip. His stomach flopped, an odd sensation bubbling in his chest. He hadn't missed the way both Rudy and Jay looked at him with curious expressions—one that made the ex-Boy Wonder blink in confusion. The adults followed after them, though their excitement evidently was not on par with Wally's.

Bart was sitting on the bed with Iris West, when they finally got to the room. Barry stood to the side, watching as both his grandson and wife held his newborn children with all the affection in the world. Bart was mesmerized.

Everyone in the room looked up whenever the two new men entered. Iris particularly, gave Dick a warm smile. Mary West squealed, hands clasping together enthusiastically, and she greeted her son sternly. "The most important day of your aunt's life and you don't show up until a day later?"

"Hey—I'm the one who drove her here." Wally grinned like an idiot and leaned over for his mother to kiss him on the cheek. Mary turned over to Dick—then kissed him, too.

The ex-Boy Wonder—suddenly feeling like a _Bat_ in a room full of Flashes, could only look down to her. His cheeks warmed pink and she smiled. "Um…hi."

"Glad you could join us, dear. I'd be _angry_ at my son, but if he managed to fish _you_ out of the busy life to bring you here," she sucked in a heavy breath for air, and inspected him approvingly, "then I suppose I can't be too angry at him. Does this mean you two made up?"

"Uh…" He realized her gaze was fixated on their interlaced hands. The teen looked in Wally's direction, who rolled his eyes and mouthed '_she's crazy.' _Without a second thought, they loosed grips and parted. Dick tucked his hands beneath his arms and offered his own, hesitant smile. "Yeah. We're good now."

"_Good," _her tone brightened and she turned back to her son. "He can be a real idiot sometimes. Thanks for keeping him in line, Richard."

Dick snorted.

"_Yeah, yeah_, he's like the shining light at the end of the tunnel or something." Wally rolled his eyes once more and waved a hand in their faces to get their attention. He broke into another grin and turned to his idling aunt and uncle with excitement. "Can I hold them?"

"You can hold Dad!" Bart hopped off the bed, with the baby wrapped in a blue blanket still in his grip. Both Barry and Iris gasped—but the brunet only beamed. He walked around the room to meet his cousin and stood to the tip of his toes. "He's cute, isn't he?"

"Very." Green eyes—_Wally's_ green eyes—lit up with excitement. He bowed over and extended his arms. Carefully, the baby was placed in his grasp—with Bart maneuvering both of the elder (ex)speedster's arms until the baby was nestled tightly in his grip.

Dick twitched. _Weird. _

Even then, Bart's hands rested on the redhead's forearms. His demeanor broke—only for a second—but returned to a smile as he realized Wally had a grip on him. Dick took the chance to meet his best friend and get a better look of his face. He wasn't disappointed.

Wally's demeanor glowed with all the adoration in the world. He looked down to the newborn in his arms with a large, eloquent smile and a gaze with stars in his eyes. Wow. "He's so wrinkly."

"He poops a lot," Barry mused wryly. "Their names are Donald and Dawn. You know—twinsy names."

"Clever," Wally quipped back. He matched the blonde's demeanor and turned over to his aunt. She looked weary, but the overall tact and amusement remained apparent in her eyes. No doubt, she was where the man got most of his sense of humor. "So did you name him or did Bart?"

"We like to think of it as fifty-fifty." Iris West-Allen shrugged tiresomely and matched smiles with her future-grandson. "Semantics."

"Semantics," Wally repeated. He laughed.

Clearly, this was Dick's cue to leave. He smiled at the scene—watching as the entire Flash Family circled around the newborn twins and the new parents with much enthusiasm, and felt a pang in his chest. All Wally really needed him for was to get him here. And—even then, Wally'd done the driving.

No running, no thought of ever putting that uniform on ever again. _Who was Dick kidding_?

But—this was the part of Wally Dick knew he couldn't ever criticize. The guy loved his family. The ex-acrobat turned around to leave, hopefully to make a silent exit so he could bury the day in the back of his mind—

"Whoa—"

"That's okay, I got'em."

—and faced the scene again.

Bart jumped to the tips of his toes to grab baby Donald, with a worried, silly smile across his face. His eyes focused up to the redhead's and he juggled between his feet. _"Jeez_, 'cuz. When was the last time you held a baby? Got grease on your fingers or something?"

Wally twitched, his demeanor twisting. "My bad. Uh—sorry." He stuffed both hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet. "Way to _show off_ though, kid."

Dick frowned.

"Dude—" His best friend looked back over to him, with a coy smile across his lips. He jostled toward the teen and looped an arm around his shoulders. "You're not leaving yet, right? I'm your escort—you think that'd look good on my part. That's like—prom suicide."

"Really," Dick responded flatly. His gaze narrowed suspiciously to the other man.

And apparently Wally didn't know why. A red eyebrow arched in the air and he crossed his arms again expectantly. "Dude—yeah. Seriously."

"So—" Joan Garrick's voice cut through their conversation, bringing everyone's attention to the two men talking at the doorframe. She smiled to them as pleasantly as the other Flash Family women, and offered a look. "Will you be staying with us for the rest of the day, Richard?"

Blink, blink.

The speedster around his shoulders eyed him mockingly, a smirk curling across his face. Wally tightened his grip on the teen. "_Yeah_, Richard. Staying?"

All eyes remained on him expectantly. Mary and Rudy West grinned just like their son, Bart Allen, Iris West-Allen, and Barry Allen offered pleasant smiles, and Jay and Joan Garrick offered him sweet looks. Dick gulped, at a loss for words. "Sure…I…I guess."

Later that day, after the awe of new babies had worn off, Barry suggested they eat food at the hospital cafeteria. Iris would be released from the hospital after the following day, after a checkup for both her and the babies. There was nothing else to celebrate—not for now. As excited as he looked about being a new father, there was still the Flash's worry that showed in his eyes. Bart, Barry, Wally and he waited to get food.

Once Wally and he were the first to be seated—Dick decided to bring the subject up again.

"Yesterday," he started, and he looked to the redhead carefully, "you mentioned letting Flash, Impulse, _and_ you handle the situation with Zoom." He moved the green peas in his plate and waited patiently for Wally to finish his (questionable) meatloaf. "You…really serious about that?"

The redhead gulped down his food and looked over to the line suspiciously—where Barry insisted on getting Bart more than one plate of food. His expression morphed reluctantly, and suddenly, Wally leaned in for just the both of them. "What do you think?"

"I…" Dick's voice trailed off. After today, he wasn't sure _what_ to think. Instead, he stabbed the remnants of peas with his spork and twisted the utensil in his fingers. "I think that if you were still Kid Flash, you'd try to figure this out by yourself."

Wally breathed heavily. He shook his head and the worry shined evidently across his face. The man reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah."

Wait. "Wally—"

"Barry just had a kid. _Two kids._ And Bart…he means well, but he doesn't realize what he's up against. The kid's still trying to figure out his life now that his mission's over." Wally shook his head and looked up into the air. He let out a bated breath—and then looked back to Dick. His gaze narrowed, until their eyes met each other. "Look—I'm not saying I'm Kid Flash again. But Barry and Bart…they're my family. You should have seen the look on Uncle B's face when he ran up to the hospital yesterday. How out of it he was." Biting his lip, the redhead shook his head forlornly. "They've got a lot on their plate and I've got all the free time in the world. Let it fall in me for a change."

"You'll…let me help you though, right?"

His best friend looked up in surprise. Wally's mouth parted slightly, eyebrows stretching beneath his hairline. He gripped the spoon beneath his fingers until it threatened to snap and made a sound from the back of his throat. "Seriously?"

Dick offered him another look—like Wally'd lost it. Given his plan of action though, the teen wouldn't have doubted it. "You're my best friend and for the first time in your life your family's meeting a criminal that could actually kill you." He flicked a green pea, which landed perfectly onto Wally's plate. "Forget asking you. I'm helping, even if you don't want me to."

It was surprising, how _shocked_ Wally looked about the whole ordeal. Dick might has well have told him Zatanna was actually a man—or something. The man across from him shrunk—finally, and picked up the pea with his spoon. "Thank you. I mean—really. Uh. _Thanks._"

"Yeah, well." Giving up, the teen scraped the rest of his peas onto Wally's plate. He hated them anyway. "You'd do the same to me. You know—if I had an anti-villain."

"Right." Wally nodded obediently like a child.

Content, they ate the rest of their brunch in silence. Bart and Barry were still debating on what foods to get (Fastest Men Alive, but Slowest Picker of Foods, apparently) when the pair was finally done. Dick looked down to his empty plate, debating on getting up for an apple (something that actually looked organic) when he felt a hand run over his own.

He looked up.

Wally bit the inside of his mouth. "I'm not really sure."

Um. The teen made a face, confusion crossing his demeanor, and in return he got a quiet laugh—followed by a soft flush in his best friend's cheeks that blended in with his freckles.

"That…question you asked me earlier this morning."

Oh.

"I'm not really sure," Wally echoed, and his hand curled over the teen's. He closed his eyes, heaving a heavy breath, and looked back up with nervousness running in his gaze. "I, uh. I know it's not a 'no.' You and me…it's been a thing, since we were kids, I think. You and I know that. But. I just…broke up with my girlfriend, and…I…whatever happens, I want to be able to commit to you one-hundred percent. Because…you do mean a lot to me. I just…need a little time to figure out what are good feelings and what are _good_ feelings."

"Am…I getting rejected and confessed to at the same time?"

A smile curled across Wally's lips—weak and fearful. At that moment, his best friend slowed down to meet his pace—so Dick could actually catch up to Wally.

Dick swallowed hard. He curled his fingers into Wally's own and admired the blush as it darkened in his best friend's face. "Okay."

"Okay," Wally repeated. He nodded jerkily. "Okay."

They kept their grip on each other as both Bart and Barry arrived at the table. Neither Dick nor Wally planned on letting go.

**xxx**

**Author's Note: **

Hey guys! Sorry about that long wait for this update. (: I got good grades on all of my finals, yaaay! This update is the first of many, so thankyou for all of your reviews and I hope you like this chapter as well. :D


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